Amid the Falling Snow
by Dani Marie
Summary: Draco and Hermione had a secret romance during their 7th year at Hogwarts. During that summer, they broke it off and haven't seen each other since. Years after the war, they run into each other again. Could something possibly come of it?
1. Chapter 1

The Past Has a Way of Creeping Up on You

Draco brushed a hand through his hair and threw his cloak on his bed. He had a rather trying day, as he was moving out of his parents' mansion and into his own flat. He had spent the day lugging boxes and boxes of old papers and useless items that had lying about in his room to his new apartment. He frowned with displeasure. His mother had begged him to stay, saying that he wouldn't have to pay rent any longer.

It was his father's idea to make him pay rent, he knew that. He told Draco it'd teach him the ways of the world. Draco, quite disturbed by the fact that he had to pay to live in his own home, scowled at his father to shove off— for lack of a better word— and left. He stayed with a friend for a few days and finally went back, but only to retrieve his belongings. It was then his mother told him that his father would change his mind, that he would let him stay.

Draco realised that he rather enjoyed not being around his parents all the time, and came to like the thorough silence that awaited him everyday. He bought a small shop in Diagon Alley, as well. Draco was rather gifted with Potions at Hogwarts, thus created potions such as antidotes at his shop.

He had long since abandoned Crabbe and Goyle, as they were two of the most imperceptive human beings he had ever met. He went about things alone, never socializing with anyone.

He glanced about the flat, filled with boxes of all sizes. It was a mess. He attempted to clean up a bit, but felt a growing hunger inside him. He needed food. Badly! He hurried out the door, and went on his way to a coffee shop he remembered seeing near by. He quickened his pace, and accidentally bumped into a girl with her face behind a book.

The girl flew to the ground, saying, "I'm so sorry. Really I am. I wasn't paying attention."

"Maybe you should be more careful of where you're going and wait to read until your brain starts to come of use to you," he sneered as he brushed off the dirt on his expensive black attire.

"Malfoy?" she spat.

Oh, God. Granger.

"What's it to you?"

"What are you doing around here?" was all she managed.

"The last time I checked, there weren't any laws against me strolling about London. Perhaps I missed that bit of news," he replied, smirking.

Hermione glared at him. "Shove off, Malfoy."

"I believe I was on my way anyways. So long, mudblood." Draco strolled away, and into a coffee shop.

Hermione hadn't seen Draco for years. Ever since they all left Hogwarts, he had disappeared into the darkness. He was just as rude and horrible as he had always been. She never understood why he was so malicious. There were many factors it could have been, from distant parents to being a spoiled brat, but whatever the cause, he never changed.

_One thing was for sure..._he was just as gorgeous as he had ever been— that, she resented. If he were vile inside and out, it would have been easier to forget him. Still evil on the inside, but his facial features were somewhat nice to look at, if she did say so herself. And his figure. His shirt formed to his body, and he looked amazing. No, get a hold of yourself, Hermione, she thought to herself. He could never be the man you want him to be. He's disgusting and cruel.

She sighed to herself. She had forgotten him for a time, but when she was moving into her own place, she had stumbled upon some old letters from him. She sat in her flat for hours reading and rereading his letters, completely forgetting about unpacking. She had tried to move on, move on from the secret love they shared. She dated numerous times, but no man could compare to him, and she hated him for it. For not letting her get on with her life. She was stuck in his love forever.

If she had known he was so seductive, she would have stayed clear of him. Damn Malfoy! She should have dated Harry when she had the chance, before Malfoy swept her off her feet! Now Harry was married to Ginny. Hermione was always secretly envious of Ginny. She had the looks, the attitude, and the personality to win over anyone's heart. She just happened to choose the man that Hermione had loved with every element of her soul, but lost. She had her chance, but she had turned Harry down.

And then there was Ron. He loved Hermione, but she turned him down as well, because she loved Harry. Now Ron was dating a woman she hated with every essence of her being. Helena Pearl. Ron met her on holiday in the states, and she was absolutely horrible! She always had to be perfect and it made her sick! She was all he spoke of for weeks. Helena this, Helena that! How many times can one woman be mentioned in one sentence, for MERLIN'S sake?! Hermione thought. He was oblivious to Hermione's annoyance with Helena, but, well, that was Ron.

Where did Draco come into this love triangle? It was during their seventh year at Hogwarts that Hermione had really started to notice him. One day, Hermione had been in the library alone, studying as usual. She realised how boring she really was, and it made her wonder how she even caught the eye of anyone! Anyways, she had been reading and someone snuck up behind her.

"You're studying late," the voice mused.

So what if she was studying late! And whose business was it anyways?

"Your point?" she snapped.

"I was merely pointing it out. Care for a drink?"

Of course, it was Malfoy!

"No thank you. I don't drink," she answered without looking up.

"Why, you must be dehydrated! You never drink even an ounce of liquid?"

"Shove off, Malfoy. I have work to do."

"Don't get all snappy. I was just offering you some pumpkin juice," he told her, placing the glass next to her and sitting down.

She turned to him and was going to tell him to go away, but couldn't seem to get the words out. He looked striking, and she couldn't look away. Seductive bastard!

"I-Thank you," she said uncertainly.

He nodded and gazed into her eyes. She turned away, determined not to be hypnotised by his mysterious eyes. She was about to take a sip of pumpkin juice, but a strange thought came to mind. What if he did something to it?

As if he could read her mind he said, "I did nothing to it. Check it yourself."

Should she trust him? Part of her wanted to, but she wasn't sure. She decided to take her chances, for if Malfoy wanted to kill her, he probably would have by now. That was a bit far fetched anyhow. She took a sip. It seemed to be fine.

"I told you. I can't believe you'd think ill of my intentions, Granger!" He pretended to be shocked.

"Yes, I'll admit I was wrong," she said, forcing a smile. What was he still doing here?

"Ah, very well. Where are Potty and Weasel?"

"Stop calling them that! They have names!" She had found a reason to be angry with him.

"Sorry? I wasn't under the impression you really enjoyed their company," he replied.

"Well, I do!" she insisted.

"So is it Potter or Weasley you're shagging?" he asked casually.

He really enjoyed testing her patience.

"That's none of your business!" she snapped.

"Au contraire. It certainly is. I need to know!"

"And why is that, Mr. Perfect?" she demanded. He was indeed getting on her last nerve!

"I thought you knew," he told her, leaning closer to her.

What was he doing? Malfoy was moving too close to her. Should she move away? No, maybe he would move.

"Knew what?"

"Why, this." He leaned in and snogged her, leaving Hermione in shock.

After realising what he had just done, she pushed him away and smacked him across the face. He didn't seem hurt at all, and raised his eyebrows.

"Quite a snog, Granger," he whispered.

"Why did you do that!" she hissed.

"Do what?"

Merlin, he drove her mad!

"Snog me, you git! WHY!"

"I love you, Hermione."

He must have been drunk or something. Taken a love potion, or been put to a dare! Never did she imagine hearing those words coming out of his mouth.

"No, you don't," she countered.

"Yes, I do." He wasn't backing down.

"No, YOU DON-" He interrupted her with another snog.

"Yes I do," he persisted when they broke apart.

"You do?" He snogged her again. Oh, so he did. Wait, had she gone mad? What was she doing? Snogging her best mates' mortal enemy! Harry and Ron were going to kill her! Well, it was her turn to enjoy herself. She and Malfoy had spent the rest of the night talking and snogging. It was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

The knock on the door brought her back to reality. She hurriedly stood up and ran to open the door. She wished she hadn't, for a tall ginger man was standing in the doorway with his girlfriend. Oh, for Merlin's sake! Not now! She put on a fake smile and invited them in. Ron had a giant smile on his face and Hermione could only guess that it was bad news…for her anyways.

Ron and Helena sat down on the white sofa, grins still on both their faces. Hermione had half a mind to smack their bloody smiles right off!

"What a pleasant surprise, having you two arrive on my doorstep in the middle of the day! How are you two?" Hermione falsely greeted.

"We have some great news!" Ron started, teeth bearing. "I asked Helena to marry me, and she said yes! We're getting married!" Oh, bloody brilliant! Just what she needed. To see Helena even more than she already did!

Hermione couldn't fake a smile this time. She frowned, shocked.

"Hermione, dear, is everything all right?" asked Helena sweetly.

"I…er…could you give me a moment?" Hermione hurried out of the sitting room and into the kitchen. She rummaged about the kitchen, making as much noise as she possibly could. If Ron didn't get it, then, he really was as thick as everyone said he was. Ron came in, glancing around at the mess Hermione had made.

"Alright, Hermione?" he asked uneasily. Was she all right? No she was bloody not all right! He was about to ruin his life by marrying the bloody stupidest, dim-witted girl she had ever met! She was going to watch her _**FRIEND**_ throw away his life and ruin hers at the same time!

"Yes, I'm fine. Just doing a little spring cleaning," she answered.

"Er, Hermione? It's the middle of December," he said slowly.

"Oh, silly me. Lost track of weather, I suppose. It was beautiful outside this morning."

"It's been snowing for two days."

"Let's go back into the sitting room, shall we?" she said, changing the subject.

They both went back into the sitting, where Helena had conjured herself and Ron some tea. Bloody stupid witch!

"So when is the big day?" Hermione asked, pretending to be interested.

"We're hoping sometime this spring. After the snow, you know," Ron answered, happy she _seemed_ happy for them.

"Oh, lovely," she replied carelessly.

"So, Hermione, who are you dating currently? Anyone?" Helena asked pryingly.

"No one, at the moment. I've been really busy with work and moving, as you know."

"Yes, of course. How," she started, glancing around at the messy room, "is the unpacking coming along? It's been two months, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has. I just haven't gotten around to it," Hermione replied hastily.

"I see," Helena replied, looking doubtful.

Hermione didn't really want to have a conversation with this woman, and part of her wanted to just kick her out.

Turning to Ron as to ignore Helena, she said, "Have you spoken to Harry yet? Does he know?"

He shook his head. "You are the first person we came to. Helena insisted!" He smiled at Helena and grabbed her hand. "Hermione, we love you dearly and we wanted you to be the first to know! You're her favourite, after all."

Hermione was Helena's favourite? She didn't want to know what happened to her enemies then.

"Hermione, would you be my maid of honour?" Oh, for Merlin's sake! Honestly, does no one have common sense any more? Hermione asked herself.

"I-I don't know what to say!"

Helena nodded understandingly. "I know, it's so overwhelming! You don't have to tell us now! Just keep us informed, alright?"

Ron looked over at Hermione. "We must be off. I've got to tell Mum and Dad!" He stood and gave her a hug. "It was nice seeing you, 'Mione. Keep in touch, alright?"

Hermione nodded and they left. Phew. What in Merlin's name was going on with the world? Harry married the wrong woman and now Ron? She always knew they were a bit dense at times, but not to the point that they'd marry horrible girls! Maybe she was just jealous. No, not her. She was never jealous! Oh dear…She glanced around her sitting room. There were boxes all over and it was an absolute mess! She decided it was due time she unpacked and put everything in its proper place. It wasn't like her to leave a mess about.

For the rest of the day she unpacked, rearranged, and cleaned her entire house, even the nooks and crannies! It actually helped keep her mind off of everything. Before she went to bed, she drank some hot tea and fell straight to sleep.

Draco woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache. He had just drunk the night away, and it was a horrible feeling. Why did he do that? If you were to ask him, he'd blame it on being an idiot, but inside he knew it was because he had seen Hermione the day before. She made him remember things he wanted to forget, and had done a good job of doing so. That is, until he bumped into her on his way to the coffee shop. He had a lurching feeling in his stomach and ran into the bathroom to vomit.

Bloody firewhiskey. He just had to drink, didn't he? He just had to drink when he was depressed. Why didn't he just find a hobby like normal people? Because he was a bloody alcoholic, that was why! He tried so hard to break the habit, but his father had made sure he made drinking a habit to begin with. He didn't mean to blame his father, but he had done so many things to influence Draco there wasn't any way around it. Maybe if he didn't get depressed he wouldn't drink. No, there was no way around that one either. The memories were cemented into his mind; he couldn't escape them even when he was asleep. Day and night they haunted him, appearing at any moment, causing him to break down. He wouldn't cry; that wasn't the way of the Malfoys. The ways of the Malfoys, of course, was to drink away their worries.

The Malfoys were too proud; they wouldn't date or marry mudbloods, or associate with _anyone_ "below" them. Through those seven years at Hogwarts, everyone had loathed him, thought he was a spoiled git. They never knew what really happened at Malfoy Manor. They had never known what his childhood had been like—or the lack there of. His father hardly spoke to him and only did so to give him money. His mother was too busy shopping and gossiping to notice what the hell he was doing. He had no real friends; Crabbe and Goyle hardly counted. Everyone wanted something from him; usually possessions and money.

That was, until Hermione came around. He had just noticed how pretty she was becoming. She was starting to grow into herself, and was the most amazing person he had ever met. He knew that she went to the library every night, to study in silence. At first, he stayed back and just watched her. Not in the creepy, I'm watching you, kind of way, but just noticing her. Then he started to bother her, taking any chance he could to speak to her. This seemed to grab her attention, as she stared at him a lot more. They argued a lot more than actually speaking and he knew that he had to have her as his. He eventually did get her and they had an incredible last year at Hogwarts. In secret, of course. They both didn't want anyone to know about them and Draco thought it was rather fun that way.

Over that summer, they wrote to each other, their letters extended page after page— declaring their love for each other. He thought everything was fine. That was, of course, when Hermione thought different. She told him that they couldn't be together any longer, that it'd ruin everything. She wanted them to go their separate ways, as it wasn't meant to be. He went to her house, argued with her, made her cry, and he thought everything would get better. He thought she was just having a phase. More like, he had hoped. He hoped with everything inside him that he'd be with her forever. They were meant to be and nothing could change that! She wrote him one last letter, breaking it off for good. Draco drank then too. For a month he stayed in bed –

his mother worried about him for one of the first times in his life.

He thought many times that his life should end, that he should just kill himself. That honestly wouldn't do much good. He couldn't ever get himself to do it. He knew it was meant to be, that they would be together! Over time, he started to realise that it wasn't happening, and moved on. But those haunting memories never left him, they just faded. He hadn't dated since that happened, but he didn't care. He just didn't find who he was looking for. He knew who he wanted, but that didn't mean a thing, did it? He supposed he'd just die a lonely man. If that was the price he had to pay for the best year of his life, then he'd gladly accept it.

His mother threw many girls his way, telling him how lucky he'd be if he married one of them, but he just couldn't. They weren't the one he wanted. She often informed him of how lonely it must be without anyone, and he usually snapped at her. His father still didn't care, but he knew it was better that way. He thought back to when he bumped into Hermione. He wondered if she was married, where she lived, and how she had been. He supposed she probably was married, being her. She was too hard to pass up.

Draco brushed his teeth to rid himself of foul breath. He made a special drink his father told him about that helped hangovers. He guzzled it down instantly and slumped on the sofa. His head, at least, had stopped pounding. He turned on his muggle device, the television, which he impulsively bought. As usual, there wasn't anything on and he turned it off again. He stood and decided to take a shower. The steaming water crashing down on his body made him feel a bit better. Draco stepped out, drying himself with a towel. He dressed and grabbed his bag to go for a breath of air. He hurried down the stairs, not really paying attention, and bumped into someone. Merlin, not again!

He apologized, just now looking at who it was.

"Granger?" he asked unbelievingly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Draco, King of the Firewhiskey and Hater of Plastic**

Draco stared at Hermione in disbelief. Why, all of a sudden, was she everywhere he went? Did she really want him to destroy his liver by drinking _every_ night? Breaking it off with him was one thing, but showing up all over London was just plain cruel. Just what was it that she wanted from him? To stomp all over his heart, throw it into the sea of forgotten souls and leave him there in a pool of misery? Not if he could help it! He'd close his heart to her. Sorry, dear, my heart has no vacancy!

"What a small world! It's been twice in the past twenty-four hours we've bumped into each other. Fancy a cup of tea and a bit of chatting?" Hermione said behind a smile. _How could she be smiling at a time like this?_ Draco thought to himself.

"I'm, sort of, on my way somewhere…important," Draco told her, lying through clenched teeth.

"Oh, alright. It's been…good to see you. You look great! I'll see you later, then," she answered quietly, starting towards the exit.

Draco watched her go out the door. A sudden thought came over him. Maybe he should have accepted her offer. After all, it was just a cup of tea. A harmless cup of tea between friends. Draco ran out the door after her.

"Hermione, wait!" he cried, catching up to her. "I'm quite thirsty," he stated.

She beamed. "A spot of tea, then? Come, inside. It's chilly out here anyhow."

Draco followed her back inside the building and into her apartment. It was the cleanest place he had ever been in. The couch had a plastic covering (for what, he had no idea), the wooden floor so clean that he could see his reflection, and even the bookcase was in alphabetical order! It was just like her to do that. He was starting to wonder why he decided to accept her offer. He knew he'd regret it later.

"Your home is very…er…clean," Draco mused as he went into the kitchen.

"Thank you. I tidied it all last night. It'd been a few months and I hadn't even unpacked!" she answered, laughing to herself.

"I see," he said, not having anything else to say. It was actually quite awkward between them.

Hermione acquired two mugs from the cupboard and poured tea into them. "Sugar or honey?" she asked, turning to him.

"Actually, I'd rather have lemon, if that's alright. I like my tea sour and bitter," he told her. _Just like your heart_, he thought angrily to himself.

"Of course, that'll be fine. Go into the sitting room. I'll be there in a moment." Draco did so, sitting down on the sofa. It was uncomfortable, all that plastic. He made a note to kill whoever invented such a thing. Hermione entered shortly after carrying a tray full of biscuits and bread.

"Here we are. So tell me, Draco," she started, picking up her cup of tea. "How have you been?"

"Alright, I suppose. Work occupies a lot of my time. Doesn't leave time for much else," he answered.

"Oh, really? Where do you work?"

"I own a Potions shop in Diagon Alley, actually. The Apothecary closed after the war, so I took this as an opportune moment to earn a living."

"That's wonderful! I'm happy for you! And your parents? How are they?"

Draco shrugged. "I wouldn't know. They are probably doing what they do best. After my father was let out of Azkaban, he stopped his life of crime and took up golf. It's a Muggle sport, so I really have no idea how he encountered it."

Hermione burst out in laughter. "Golf? That's…different."

"Enough about me, though. How are you?" Draco asked, curious about her love life.

"I'm…fine," was all she said.

"Are you? You don't sound sincere about that."

"Yes, yes. Of course I am. Just because Harry married Ginny and Ron is marrying that bloody American girl doesn't mean I'm not FINE!" she shouted. What in the world was happening?

"I…perhaps I should go," Draco told her, getting up. He didn't know what to say to her, and was afraid that he'd say the wrong thing.

"No, please don't. I could really use someone to talk to," she pleaded.

"Alright, I'll stay," he decided, secretly hoping that would happen. Vulnerability was key to the world of the Malfoys.

Hermione told Draco what had happened the day before when Ron came to tell her the "fantastic" news. She really had no idea what made her even invite him into her house, but she did. She also had no idea why she was pouring out her life to him, but she did. Maybe it was because she was lonely, or she was just _dying_ to tell someone. It could also be the fact that he appeared to have changed. He actually wanted to listen to her thoughts. Not ignore them, as everyone else seemed to enjoy doing. Perhaps there was hope for a friendship after all.

"So now he thinks I approve of his wedding. I wish I could tell him what I really think," she said, finishing.

Draco stared at Hermione longingly and it made her a bit uncomfortable. _He's probably just thinking of how much of sap I am_, she thought to herself.

"You know, you should just tell him your thoughts, and if he doesn't listen, then he's a bastard."

"Oh, if I do that, then he'll tell Helena and she'll hate me even more! I don't think I could take it!" she told him.

"If he was a good friend, he wouldn't," Draco said quietly. Where was this insightful Draco coming from?

"Ron's different. He's…" she started, trying to think of a good adjective to describe him.

"Stupid? Mundane? Thick as honey?" he offered.

"No! Ron's…well…Ron," she finally said, defeated.

"Ron is Ron. That's really explicit," he retorted.

"Oh, shut up!" she cried, laughing. She was smiling for one of the first times since she left Hogwarts.

"Fine, fine. So, what about Potter? He married Ginny, then? Such a shame. She could have done better."

"Who, Harry?" she asked.

"Well, that's a very redundant question being that there is only one girl we're speaking of. I know it's hard to picture, but Harry is in fact a male," Draco said, trying to humour her.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him like a five year old. She loved how free she could be around him.

"Well, that's mature, Ms. Granger. Have a bit of dignity."

Hermione just grinned and stared at him. She felt odd, as if something new sprung inside her. She felt like a different person, and little time even passed. Something about Draco made her curious to know more. He changed. Now thoughtful, and, dare she say it, a decent person. This was amusing to her. Draco, once an angry, bitter soul; now kind and fun to be around. She stifled a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" Draco asked accusingly, laughing himself.

"Oh, nothing. I just find it entertaining how you have a bit of chocolate on your face," she answered hurriedly, flicking chocolate spread on his face with a spoon and running into the kitchen before he could catch her. Soon enough, he was behind her.

"Prepare to laugh your heart out, my dear," he told her, ready to tickle her. She hurried off through the house.

"You can't catch me!" she teased as she hid behind a door. She saw Draco's feet sneak past, stop, and turn back.

"Gotcha!" he cried, tickling her. After a few minutes, Hermione still laughing, Draco stopped. They were lying in the middle of the floor, giggling as if they either were children or had one too many drinks.

"Hermione," Draco started in a whisper. Why was he whispering? Was what he was going to say crucial to a new relationship? "Why is there plastic on your sofa?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was acting like Ron. Instead of answering, she just laughed again, averting his gaze. He was so close to her that she could feel his warm breath. She could smell him, a smell of winter and hot chocolate. She felt as though she was going to melt in place while being next to him. She listened to him rant about her sofa.

"I mean honestly! Who puts plastic on a sofa? It's so sticky and, quite frankly, unattractive," he informed her.

"I happen to like it! It meshes well with my house!" she insisted.

Draco glanced at his watch. "As fun as this has been, I'd better get going. I've got to get to my shop. It really was good to see you, Hermione. Maybe we can do this again." He stood and pulled her up.

Giving her a hug, he said, "Don't do anything mad, darling." He opened the door and left, crying, "Until we meet again!" over his shoulder.

Hermione was left bewildered. He was so different, so crazy and wild. Her heart yearned to run after him, to kiss him and make time stand still. Sighing, she picked up the tray, realising he hadn't touched his tea. After putting the dishes in the sink, she left the kitchen and curled up on the couch. Her mind whirled with thoughts about him. Well, at least she could say she tried to move on. Maybe not. She gazed out her window and saw an owl flying towards it. _Who is that from?_ she wondered. The owl tapped the window with its beak and she let it in, untying the letter from its leg. After she gave it a little treat, it flew off into the distance. On the front of the envelope was one name. _Hermione_. Still no hint of who it could have been. She opened it quickly and pulled the letter out.

_Darling Hermione, _

_How are you my dear? Good, I hope. Ron told me you were having a bit of trouble. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. Anyways, Harry and I were wondering if you'd like to have dinner with us and Ron and Helena. It'd be a wonderful little get together. We'd love it if you'd join us! If you'd like, you can bring someone with you. We really would love to meet your boyfriend! If want to come, it's at six o' clock this the evening. Bring your lovely homemade pie! We all love it! _

_With love,_

_Ginny_

Oh great. A bloody dinner with married and to-be married friends, and her, all alone. It was as if they enjoyed throwing that in her face every chance they got! Fine, if they really want her to go, she would. They could have their laughs as she once again goes with no date. But of course! How could she have been so stupid! Draco! She could ask Draco to go with her. As friends, naturally. She hurried to start the pie and wrote a note to Draco, asking him for the favour.

Draco was in his shop when he received an owl. He quickly opened it, sensing it was something important.

_Draco_

_I know this is really short notice, but could you do me a huge favour? Ginny invited me to a little dinner, and every time I'm always dateless. Would you save me from embarrassment and go with me? It's at six o' clock. Thank you so much._

_Hermione_

Draco folded the note and slipped it into his back pocket. He hated dinners, especially when Potter and Weasley were present. He'd do it for Hermione, though. He quickly wrote her back agreeing to meet her at the front entrance of their building. A customer hurried into the shop.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me where I could find a potion for my wife…?" the man asked. Draco helped him and he soon left. _Poor bastard,_ he thought to himself.

Draco's mind went to earlier that day. He actually had fun; he had expected it to be awkward and uptight, Hermione especially. He was still confused about the whole plastic on the sofa thing, though. That was just bizarre. Muggles were awfully peculiar; maybe that's where she got the idea. Silly girl. Maybe he'd get his mother's designer to help her with her décor choices. Draco looked at his watch. Five o' clock He'd better get going. After closing the shop (it was his, he could do whatever he wanted), he Apparated home to get dressed. Being sure that he didn't look too dressy (he had no reason to please anyone); he put on a little cologne and went outside. He saw a batch of flowers in a row and grabbed one (it was the thought that counted!). At five thirty, Hermione finally came outside.

"Took you long enough," Draco snapped, being sure that he didn't give her the impression he was too nice.

"I had to get ready, too, you know," she told him.

"Here," he said, handing her the flower.

"Thanks. You got this from the row of ugly flowers over there, didn't you?"

"Your point?"

"I don't have one. Ready? Grab onto my hand. You won't know where it is, alright?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but reluctantly did so. They Apparated to Harry and Ginny's front porch.

"Lovely home they have," Draco commented, looking at the huge house. _How did they afford this?_ Draco asked himself.

"Harry has his fortune, plus the money he earns at the Ministry," Hermione stated bitterly, as if sensing he was curious.

"Oh, lucky bloke. Shall we, then?" Hermione nodded and he knocked on the door. Draco couldn't wait to see the look on Harry's face when he saw him at the door.

The door swiftly opened, a young, ginger woman answered. "I'm so glad you're here, Hermione! It's been so long!" she cried, hugging her. Draco noticed Hermione was holding back and she looked a little annoyed.

"It's nice to see you, too, Gin. You remember Draco, don't you?" she said with a false smile.

Ginny looked a bit shocked, but quickly hid her surprise. "Yes, of course. It's…nice to have you here. Please, come in."

Draco took Hermione's hand and went inside. The front hall was as big as Draco's sitting room. He was accustomed to a big house, having lived in a mansion, but he actually preferred a small apartment to this. Draco laughed as Ron glanced over at them, mouth agape. Ron hurried over, grinning despite this. He gave Hermione a giant hug, pushing Draco out of the way.

"I'm so glad you could make it, 'Mione. I was worried you'd never get out of the house!" he said to her.

Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer. Oh, how he loved to burst buttons. Ron glared at him and turned back to Hermione.

"I want to show you something." Turning to Draco, he said, "Excuse us a moment, will you?" Draco nodded grudgingly, watching them go.

"You never told me you were dating Malfoy!" Draco heard Ron hiss to her.

He strolled around and bumped into a snooty looking woman. She glared up at him.

"Watch where you're going! You could have ruined my dress with your wine!"

"Sorry 'bout that," Draco retorted carelessly.

"You're dating Hermione, then?" she asked. _What a nosey woman!_ Draco observed.

"We're friends, if you must know. So, you're marrying Weasel, eh. Aren't there any other men in the world or have you dated them all and he's your last resort?"

"Ronald is a wonderful person! I see why you've never been married. You're a pathetic little creep."

"I may be, but that's not why I haven't got married. See, I have my heart set on one girl, and I'm just waiting for the right moment to sweep her off her feet. Much more romantic, you know."

"I see. Excuse me. I must get out the appetisers." She hurried away, mumbling nonsense to herself.

"Lovely woman," Draco said aloud.

"Not particularly, no. She's a horrible little witch, actually," Hermione said from behind him.

"Ah, that's why I like her. Just a little flair to add to the world. Like me, see," he replied sarcastically.

Harry crept up behind them. "Hermione! It's nice to see you! Glad you could make it! Draco, you, too." Apparently Ginny warned him that Draco was there.

"Likewise," Draco mumbled.

"It's good to see you, too, Harry! How's everything?" Hermione asked.

"It's brilliant, actually. Don't tell anyone, but we're having a BABY!" he whispered, rather loudly for a secret.

Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't care for this stupid bloody family talk. He needed something stronger to drink.

"Eh, Potter. Do you have any firewhiskey about the house? I could use some right about now."

"No. I think dinner is ready, though. Hermione will show you where the dining room is."

No firewhiskey? He thought there'd be a way to make the night worth sticking around for, but now, not so much. He had nothing to keep him going!

"Hermione, we need to go," he ordered, virtually running to the door.

"Draco, why? We've only just got here!" she cried.

"There's no FIREWHISKEY!" he hollered.

"Calm down, Draco. It's just alcohol!" she informed him.

"I need it, or your night will be horribly, horribly ruined! Hermione, I need FIREWHISKEY!" he whined. Draco didn't want to sound like a child, but he really needed this to function.

"Give me a second. I'll go and have Ron get you some. Alright?"

Draco nodded. There was some sense in this woman! "Alright. I'll sit at the table politely as possible chatting away with your little friend, Helena," he said, smirking.

Hermione sighed and went off to find Ron. Draco went into the dining room, where food was being placed. Chicken? Who ate chicken anymore? It was all about the ham! Ham is the new chicken! "Hello, Ginny. Do you need any help?" he asked as civil as he could manage.

"Um, no, that's alright. I've got everything covered. Have you seen Hermione? I need to know how long to put the pie in for…" she answered, blowing a piece of hair out of her face.

"She went to find Ron, who will be getting me some firewhiskey. I believe you put the pie in for about an hour, if that helps…So, when is the baby due?"

"Baby? What baby?" Bloody POTTER!

"Oh, Potter told me you were expecting," he replied nonchalantly.

"Did he now?" she asked, worried. "Harry, babe, could you come here for a moment?"

"I'll be there in a sec, Gin. I just have to fix this last little…oh. There we are!" He came into the room questionably.

"Draco told me that you told him that I was pregnant. Why did you tell him that?" she asked, confused.

Harry glared at Draco, but Draco's face only resembled the grin of someone who had just received a bottle of firewhiskey for his birthday.

"Well, honey, it was supposed to be a surprise, for everyone. The healer sent an owl saying he had made a mistake before. You're pregnant. We're having a baby!" he said excitedly.

Ginny dropped the plates in her hand. "We're having a baby?" she shrieked. "We're having a baby!" She hugged Harry and kissed him. "Draco, we're having a baby!"

"Yes, all very nice and all, but I have to check on the firewhiskey situation. Don't eat any pie without me," he answered unsympathetically.

He hurried out of the kitchen of hell and yelled, "Hermione! Hermione! Her-"

"Stop that shouting!" she demanded, putting a hand over his mouth. "Here's your bloody Firewhiskey!"

"Oh, thank you!" he yelled, hugging her. Hermione started towards the kitchen. "I don't think we want to go in there just yet. They're a little busy."

Hermione was horrified. "WHAT? You mean…"

"Oh, no. They're just having a little happy moment. Give it a few minutes. They'll get over themselves."

They sat on the sofa (thankfully plastic free!) and stared at the fireplace. Helena strode in and glanced over at them. "Just friends my butt," she mumbled, walking away.

Ginny came out, grinning. "Dinner is served!"

"What is she so happy about?" Hermione asked.

"She found out she was pregnant," Draco answered.

"But didn't she already…" She stopped, rolling her eyes. "I don't even want to know, Malfoy."

They went into the dining room where everyone already was sitting down. Draco sat down right away, tossing many a food onto his plate. He hadn't had a real meal in weeks. Usually he'd only eat sweets and junk, too lazy to cook for himself.

"Mmm, this food is delicious," he said, turning to Ginny.

"Thanks, but I can't cook to save my life. This is all Helena's doing," she answered.

Soon enough, everyone finished eating, all of them were ready for pie. It was then that Ginny jumped up, realising that she forgot to shut the oven off (she only used the oven because she thought it was a cool gadget.) It was then the pie was burnt, and it was then everyone said their goodbyes. When dessert was ruined, so was the rest of the evening.

"Thank you for inviting me, Ginny. I had a lovely time."

By this time, Draco was as drunk as a crazy man in the street. "Yes, we had a veeeerry pretty time at your wedding," he slurred.

"I'm sure you did," Hermione told him. "I'll keep in touch, alright, Gin?"

They went on to the walkway and Hermione Disapparated them home. Draco was stumbling around foolishly. "See, the thing about you is that you care too much about me. I'm your hero! You love me with every beat of your beat," he ranted, stumbling up the stairs and falling on his behind.

Hermione sat down next to him. "Draco, stop shouting!"

"Hermy, I love you. I always have and always will. When you broke off…I was…very…and you…so pretty. It broke…heart…to pieces," he slurred again.

"Draco, you're being stupid. Which apartment is yours so I can be sure you don't wake up anyone else?"

"Love isn't…meddle with. Just like that," he continued.

"Draco," she snapped.

"That one," he said, pointing to the entrance of the building.

She pulled Draco up. "Come on. Up you go." They went inside the building, and Hermione looked around.

"Now, which one's yours?"

"I don't feel too well…" Draco vomited on Hermione's shoes. "Oops, sorry."

"Oh, it's alright. I hated these anyways. Come on, you'll just stay at my flat until morning." She brought him inside and into the bathroom.

A little while later, he came out, staggering only a little. Hermione had made up the guest room for him.

"You'll sleep here, alright? I'd better be off to bed. Goodnight."

As she left, Draco cried, "Why is there plastic on my bed?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Coffee and Revelations**

As Draco opened his eyes, an unfamiliar sight came into focus. The room was painted and covered entirely in his worst nightmare, besides plastic, of course: Flowers. Had he died and gone to hell? Memories of the night before came swarming back to him. He was in Hermione's flat. No, he wasn't in hell, but the plastic was pretty damn close. Standing up, he took another look around. He really did hate those flowers on the wall.

He staggered out of the room, the scent of coffee and sausages reaching his nose. He went into the kitchen, where he saw Hermione sitting at the table, sipping her coffee with her head deep inside a book. Without looking up, she said:

"Grab a cup if you want."

"What?" he asked, still vaguely aware of his surroundings.

"Grab a cup of coffee?" she offered, giving him a puzzled look.

"Oh, right."

"Shouldn't have drank so much," she told him when he sat down.

"Sorry?"

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DRANK SO MUCH," she yelled. His head throbbed in pain.

"Don't do that!" he hissed, rubbing his temples in an attempt to make the pain go away. The girl did it just to spite him! The horror of it all!

"Do what?" she asked innocently. She knew exactly what she was doing!

"Is there a reason I woke up in _your_ flat?" he asked, curious. He remembered a lot of what happened, but _why_ he was in her home was beyond him.

"You were too drunk to remember your own name," she told him, smirking.

"You shouldn't do that to your face. It's quite cruel to the people who have to look at you," he informed her.

"Oh, SHUT UP!" After a few moments of silence, Draco spoke again.

"I'm leaving." And he stood up and walked out.

He wasn't going to say thank you for what she did. She didn't have to bring him inside. She could have left him out in the cold for all he cared! Draco felt a throb in his head like no other. He groggily went to his door and couldn't get it open. If he was in his right mind, he would have remembered that he was in fact a wizard with a wand. But of course, he didn't, so he went back to Granger's and knocked on the door.

"What do you want now?" she asked when she opened it.

"I can't get into my house."

"Oh, alright. Come in."

When Draco sat down on the couch of hell, he turned to her. "Why are you so mad about Weasley getting married? If I were you, I'd be delighted to get him out of my hair!"

"That's none of your concern, Malfoy," she snapped.

"Oh, we both know you're dying to tell someone!"

"You are very wrong. Can we please talk about something else?"

"No, not until you tell me," he persisted. It was fun to bother her!

She crossed her arms and turned away. She was cracking. This amused him.

"Fine, I'll leave it alone," he said finally. She wouldn't be able to resist telling him now.

"I'm afraid," she said suddenly. Hah! He got her!

"Afraid?"

"Yes, afraid. I'm afraid that I will lose a good friend. I hardly see Harry as it is, and losing Ron, too, would be just dreadful. I'd have no one to turn to!" Her eyes welled with tears. He hadn't counted on her crying. He didn't know how to comfort the distraught.

He moved closer to her and put an awkward hand on her shoulder. "It'll….be fine." Being nice was too weird for him. Unnatural, unheard of! She'd better not get used to it!

"Thanks," she said, smiling and wiping tears from her face. Oh, good. She was smiling! Now she could leave him alone!

"My pleasure," he whispered. Did that just escape his mouth? He didn't really mean that!

"Draco, would you-"

"Uh, sorry. I have to do a bit of shopping. I'll see you around," he said hastily. He didn't want to be dragged into a repeat of the night before.

"Oh, alright. I'll see you later," she answered.

As Draco was leaving through the door, she cried, "You have a wand. That should open your door."

Damn. How could he have forgotten he was a wizard? Seven years of hell should have stuck that memory into him. Shaking his head, he opened the door with a quick swish of his wand and strode inside. Still feeling as if someone slammed his head into one hundred tons of iron, he made his all too familiar drink. He guzzled it down and slumped on his plastic-free sofa.

Hermione was still a mystery to him. Why was she so afraid of expressing her feelings? She was terrified of everything! _Afraid of loss, afraid of failing, afraid of friendship, and,_ he thought, _afraid of __**love**_He was so sure that was the only reason she broke it off with him. She was scared. Fearful of what in particular, though? To get too close to someone? To actually share feelings? Maybe when her parents were killed that summer, she closed herself off.

He could be the one to help her, but she didn't seem to want his help. _Although,_ he thought to himself, _she did invite you into her house_. She seemed to want a friendship, at least. _Yes, someone to cling onto when her life goes down the drain. _No, she was better than that. She just wanted someone she could really talk to, but since when had the Malfoys been known to hold a decent conversation? She must have been seriously misinformed, that was for sure. He laughed to himself. Malfoys, concerned about others? That was a joke! When they were caring, hell would freeze over. So everyone knew that wasn't happening any time soon…

The sun was blazing through the window, leaving streaks of light all over. He hated the light, so he closed the curtains and resumed his thinking state. He probably should have been going to work, but he just didn't feel like it. He'd have his new apprentice fill in for him. It wasn't as if he really had to be there. It'd take care of itself. Ripping a piece of empty space off the Daily Prophet, he scribbled a note giving orders to the kid, slipped it onto his owl, and went back to laying down on the sofa. He was extremely bored. Twiddling his wand with his fingers, he pondered. What could he do to pass the time?

Well, there was always sleeping. Merlin knew he could use it. No, that'd be boring. He needed a wee bit more fun. Oh, who was he kidding? Draco Malfoy having fun? No, the only way he could do that was by torturing someone, and Potter was a bore now. Sighing, he realised something. His house was a mess. Oh, bugger. He really loathed cleaning. He wondered if there were any house elves that would still enjoy cleaning after they were freed. That was doubtful, especially a house elf that would be willing to go near him with a hundred foot pole. He supposed he'd just have to do it himself. That was a shame.

Getting up, he decided he'd tackle the very room he was in. Boxes upon boxes were about the floor and some had toppled over. He picked up the first box, digging through its contents for anything worth saving. Glasses and paperwork. That was an interesting combination. He tossed the box carelessly into the kitchen. The sound of glass breaking could be heard. He caught sight of a box labelled, _**Letters**_. Ignoring any thought of finishing his cleaning, he picked up the box and went into his room. Setting the box on his bed, he stared thoughtfully at it.

He could open it and search through the letters, but there was that creeping feeling that he'd regret it. Part of him wanted to read them, to remember the few good days of his life. This was quite a decision! What he'd do, he wasn't sure. As the Muggles say, curiosity killed the cat. On second thought, that little saying made absolutely no sense, and he quickly opened the box and pulled out a letter. Without a second thought, he opened the letter and glanced over it. It was a bad idea…

_Draco,_

_Do you ever wonder about love? We're awfully young, as you know. Could this just be one of those…what do they call them? Oh, flings? I mean, it's only been a few months! How can two young people such as us make such a commitment with those three little words? It's just so surreal! You must understand where I'm coming from, don't you? _

_Harry and Ginny are getting married and I honestly wonder what made them do such a thing. Could they really love each other? It's such a commitment, and frankly, I'd be afraid! Sigh. I wish there was an easier way to do things. Draco, you can't honestly love me. We're two different people with two different lives to live! You…well, you are a Death Eater! And me, I'm just not. We're also just getting too serious. It was never meant to be… Do you understand? I really think we should break it off, see other people. Please, don't be angry with me. It's what is really best, for the both of us! _

_Hermione_

Folding the letter, he stared off into the distance at nothing in particular. He felt a burning in his throat and forced away tears. That was the last time he touched that bloody box! Throwing it across the room, he clenched his jaw in anger. All thoughts of sadness disappeared instantly. Although he wanted to be so mad at her for tearing his heart into pieces, he couldn't. That was the past and forgetting the past was his goal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Prince Charming? Eh, Not So Much**

It was a cold winter day and light snow was falling on the ground. It was Hermione's favourite time of the year. She strolled through the streets of Diagon Alley, window-shopping, with a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. Christmas was drawing nearer and she hadn't even begun to buy gifts, so she thought it would be a perfect opportunity. She passed by a window filled with lights and turned back, seeing the perfect gift for someone. As she went inside the store, a little bell rang on the door, alerting the owner that someone had entered.

"Good afternoon, miss. Can I help you with anything?" the man at the counter asked.

"Er, yes, actually. I'm interested in buying that broom. The one in the window, just there," she responded, pointing to the display.

"The Golden Fire, eh? A genuine broom, that is. Only one hundred made world wide," he informed her.

"Really? That's fascinating. Why weren't there more made?"

"I don't really know. I just sell 'em," he answered, scratching his head.

"Alright, then. How much is it?"

"A lot more then you could afford, I'm afraid," the man said, frowning. Who was he to know how much she could afford?

"And how much is that, may I ask?" she asked, now annoyed.

"500 Galleons, miss." That was a lot of money, but it was all right, because she had been saving up all year to buy people gifts. She had more than enough.

"Right then. Could you wrap it up, please?" The man stared at her, bewildered.

"Are you sure you have enough?" he asked suspiciously.

"Of course! It's Christmas!" she merely answered, as if it explained everything.

The shop owner shook his head, but carefully grabbed the broom from the stand and set it on the counter. He took his time wrapping it as well, giving Hermione time to browse a little more around the store. When he had finally finished, she handed him the amount needed.

"Have a good day, sir!" she told as him as she left.

She had no idea what made her want to buy a broom, nor who she was going to give it to. She hadn't really thought about it, but she knew it'd be a nice gift for someone. If she gave it to Harry, Ron would die of jealousy, but if she gave it to Ron, she knew he'd throw it in Harry's face that he had something better than his Firebolt. That didn't leave much room for happy people. She'd think of something.

The air was getting crisp and cold, so she decided she'd call it a day and go home. As soon as she got into her flat, she shook all the snow off of her hair and clothes and started some hot water for tea. Sighing, she sat down on her sofa. It was quiet, but since she lived by herself, that wasn't unexpected. Her thoughts wandered to the week before, when Draco had asked her about Ron. Maybe she shouldn't have told him anything. She had no idea why she even told him. _What was I thinking?_ she thought to herself.

He was so strange, Draco. One minute he was mean and cruel, and other times he was nice. Why couldn't he make up his mind already?! Was he good or bad? He could drive a girl mad! He was good to have around when he wasn't throwing sarcastic remarks left and right, but he was still a mystery to her.

Just like in their seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry had defeated Voldemort and the war was over. Draco had changed sides after the war, as did most of the Death Eaters. The whole school was buzzing about that. Rumours floated around that he was a spy, still on the Death Eaters' side. It was Hermione's opinion that none of them were true. Not because she liked him or wanted to defend him, but because she didn't believe anything until she saw living proof. She didn't even realise that she had _any_ feelings towards him until that day he had kissed her.

It was Ron who had really gotten out of hand with the rumours. When Draco went back to school, he was lower than dirt in almost all of the student's eyes. No longer was he king of the castle, the one guys wanted to be and girls wanted to shag. He was just Malfoy, ex Death Eater and a traitor. Ron thought it was his turn to shine and chatted to the other guys all about Draco's "mass murdering" rages. They believed him, of course. After all, they had no reason not to, and they did need someone else to adore. The students would die if they didn't have someone to worship. After that, Ron became a little… egotistical. Kind of like new money, so to speak. He'd stroll around with his nose up in the air as if he were the best thing that ever happened.

Hermione had gotten sick of him boasting about how everyone loved him and what not, so she had put him in his place. He had gotten just a little carried away, but he needed a wake up call. She had caught him alone while everyone else was sleeping, which was a surprise, because he had a mob around him wherever he went. She started lightly towards him, just asking him a few questions, but then she burst into a mad woman's fit and told him he was acting like a disgusting git and should stop before he ended up like Malfoy! That certainly wouldn't stop the trouble, because at that time, who would have wanted to be a Malfoy?

Though she didn't let anyone know it, she felt sorry for him. She knew she shouldn't have, but he had just been so…helpless. It wasn't as if he asked for all that had happened. It wasn't as if he had asked to have the worst parents in the world, but that hadn't mattered to anyone. All they knew was that he used to be an arse, and that's all they needed to know. That could have been the main reason she fell for him. He had changed after the war, become a better person. He wasn't arrogant and hateful any longer, yet he still gained nothing.

A screeching noise could be heard from the kitchen and she realized that the water had finished boiling. Hurrying to turn it off, she tripped over something in the middle of the floor. What could possibly cause her to fall on a newly cleaned floor? She rubbed her head and stood up.

"Bloody floor," she murmured to herself. It was at that moment she noticed a vase of flowers and an envelope. _Where in the world did those come from?_

She picked them up, completely forgetting about the squealing teapot on the stove. Instead, she waved her wand to shut it up and wandered over to the sofa to read the letter. _Who could have sent these?_ she wondered to herself. She opened the envelope quickly and pulled the letter out.

_Hermione,_

_I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since our date. I miss you so much! Why haven't you gotten back to me? Am I that repulsive that you don't even want to go out again? I honestly thought we hit it off pretty well. You seemed to thoroughly enjoy yourself, too. I thought maybe you have just been busy, so I sent you these lilies, since they're your favourite flower. I hope you like them. I also wrote you a poem._

_When I think of you, _

_Your sweet scent of lilies,_

_Your lips of red roses,_

_Hair fields of wildflowers,_

_Eyes of Iris,_

_Smile of sunflowers,_

_You make me want you even more_

_I hope you enjoyed that. You mean the world to me, and I hope to see you soon. If you'd like to get together, meet me in the centre of London by the fountain tonight at seven. _

_Yours always and forever,_

_Jason_

Hermione shook her head. That had to be the corniest poem she had ever read. Truth be told, she had only gone out with him because he wouldn't leave her alone, and to have him still bothering her was not a good thing. She was hoping she had gotten rid of him. He wasn't a horrible person, but she didn't really care all that much for him. He had a huge ego and he was exactly the type of person Lockhart had been. That could never end well for anyone…

What was she going to do? She wasn't about to go out with him again, but she didn't have the heart to ignore him. Well, writing him to tell him no couldn't hurt. She pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began writing.

**Jason,**

**It was good to hear from you, but I'm sorry to have to decline your offer. I'm overloaded with work and things so I don't really have time! Thanks for the flowers. They're lovely.**

**Hermione**

That seemed easy enough. He wouldn't be mad, nor would she have to see him. Perfect. Folding the letter, she attached it on her owl and sent it off. Finding herself with nothing to do, she decided to read a fairy tale she had picked up in a Muggle store. Soon enough she had drifted off with thoughts of three little fairies dragging a gorgeous Draco up to the top of the castle to wake her with a kiss…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Disastrous, To Say the Least**

Draco stood in front of the mirror, staring vacantly at his reflection. He was feeling uneasy about the dinner he had to attend at his parent's house. Something was odd about the invitation; something he couldn't quite put his finger on. All he knew was that he wasn't to hear the last of his parents. After brushing the comb through his hair one last time, he Apparated to what most people referred to as _Malfoy Mansion_.

God, what was he doing? Agreeing to meet with his parents? Had he gone insane? Not too long ago, he had left because he had enough, and now he was on his way to have a 'lovely' dinner with them? His father would only have invited him for one reason: to persuade him to be a part of another evil scheme (mostly Death Eater uprisings, all of which Draco was highly sceptical about.) After everything that had happened, he thought his father would have learned, but of course, he yearned for power, to be evil.

After taking a swig from a bottle of liquor he kept in his coat (there was always a chance he might need alcohol), he slipped it back into his pocket and knocked on the door. No one answered. After a few minutes of impatience (in other words, Draco knocking furiously on the door), his mother answered.

"Draco, darling! You mustn't knock on the door that loudly," she greeted, as she let him inside. _A simple hello would have done just as well_, Draco thought to himself.

He glanced around at the vast hallway before him. Just as he had left it; bitter and dark. Somehow they had managed to convince a few house elves to stay at the manor to do the housework. How they did that was beyond him.

"How are you doing in that…place you call a home?" his mother asked, trying to look as pleased as possible. She wasn't trying very hard, for disgust was very evident in her face.

"Fine. Just because it's an apartment, doesn't mean it isn't nice. In fact, I'd prefer it over living here any day."

His mother frowned, but said nothing. Draco wondered why she didn't snap at him. Something was different about her, he knew that for sure. At that moment, a house elf slipped in, telling them that dinner was ready, and Draco didn't have the chance to ask her.

When they went into the dining room, his father was already seated, putting food onto his plate. Lucius looked up, but no greetings were exchanged between the two. After Draco and his mother put their food on their plates, silence ensued. Only the sound of chewing and forks clanking could be heard. A great start to a dinner that was.

Finally, Lucius cleared his throat. "Draco, how is the shop going for you?" Something was up. His father never cared about how he was doing, nor did he ever show interest in his life.

"What do you want from me now?" Draco answered immediately.

"I'm shocked that you would just assume that of me. I was merely asking how your shop was running," he responded a little too quickly. Draco noticed that he didn't look him in the eyes when he spoke.

"That's a load of shit, Lucius."

"Lucius? Is that who I am to you now? No longer your father, am I?" he snapped coldly.

"You were never my father. A father doesn't pressure his son to join the Death Eaters! A father doesn't ignore his son! A father doesn't raise his son to be a conceited, arrogant, snob that the entire school loathes above all others!" Draco shouted, now annoyed.

"I did the best I could under the circum-"

"Under the circumstances? Under what circumstances?! Too busy killing people to give a damn about your son?"

"Draco! You will not speak that way to your father!" his mother reprimanded.

"No, Narcissa. Let him speak."

Draco glared at his father. "I'm finished. Care to elaborate on what you want me to do so I can go home?"

His father sighed, and cleared his throat. "I've been discussing with a few ex-Death Eaters that are interested in a possible uprise. You're fairly young and a lot faster than we are. They, er, suggested you lead it."

Draco couldn't believe the nerve his father had to ask him that. "Absolutely not. That's in my past. I'd rather die than ever join in with those good for nothing idiots that have nothing going for them except a guaranteed cell in Azkaban."

"Very well. You've made your choice. You're turning against your friends. They won't be happy."

"I don't have friends," Draco answered. He then stood up and put on his coat. "Thank you for the meal, mother."

"Goodbye, Draco," she replied, hugging him. "And be careful out there."

He Disapparated to his flat, shaking his head. His father never knew when to quit. He was worried, though. The possible uprising of the Death Eaters was never a good sign, and he feared greatly that the first to go would be Muggleborns, and he had to find a way to stop them.

Draco hadn't seen Hermione in a while, and thought he'd pay her a visit. He soon found that it was not a good idea. He was almost to her house when he saw a guy with flowers in one hand and hugging her. They were talking in low voices, and every now and again Hermione laughed at something he said. Draco did nothing but stand there, crestfallen. He thought she would have come around, but he supposed he was wrong. His one and only love was gone.

Hermione glanced up and saw Draco standing there. He turned and fled, not wanting to speak to her again. She had shattered the already broken pieces of his heart into even smaller bits.

"Draco, wait!" she called after him. He kept walking, ignoring her. "Draco! It's not what you think!" she cried, louder. But he couldn't hear her, for he had already slammed the door to his own apartment, a single tear slipping down his face.

He just couldn't believe she did that to him. Lead him on like that. The least she could do was meet a guy away from him, so he didn't have to see the bastard. That was it. He would have no more to do with her. What was he thinking, befriending a Mudblood? The Death Eaters could have her for all he cared.

No, he was overreacting a little. He couldn't help it, he was mad and he had every right to be. Well…maybe not. It wasn't as if they were dating. She was allowed to date whomever she wanted. They were just friends_**. Just friends…**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: The Knight in Shining Armour**

"Hermione, is everything alright?" Jason asked, standing in front of Hermione's door with a puzzled look on his face.

"No, not particularly," she mumbled. She didn't ask Jason to come and visit her, nor did she really want him there. Draco appearing from nowhere only made it worse. He had surely gotten the wrong impression of the situation. Nothing, she repeated, _nothing_ was going on between her and Jason! She would rather die than go out with him again. If only Draco wasn't so quick to come to conclusions.

Jason's smile transformed into a frown. "Anything I can do to help?"

She blew a stray hair from her eyes. "No, nothing you can do. I think it's best that you leave, Jason," she told him gently.

"Was that your boyfriend?" he asked curiously.

"Yes. Well, he was anyways," she answered quietly.

"Is that why you ignored me those times that I wrote to you? You were dating someone else?" She was hoping he wouldn't have asked such a question.

"How about some tea?" she suggested, avoiding his question.

"Sure, that'd be great," he answered, walking into her flat and flopping on the couch. "Two cubes of sugar and a drop of lemon, don't forget!"

Hermione went into the kitchen and started the water. What did she just get herself into? Hopefully he'd drink his tea and leave. If he didn't, well, that was her fault for inviting him into her home. Perhaps she would have been better off with just answering his question and never speak to him again, but that would just be mean. What was she going to tell him? No, I ignored you because you are creepy and borderline stalker status? No, that'd be even worse.

"Lovely home you have, Hermy. Do you mind if I call you Hermy? It's absolutely adorable!" he cried from the sitting room.

"Oh, God," she whispered to herself. _Drink tea and leave_, she repeated. _Drink tea and leave._

The teapot whistled noisily, shooting steam from the spout. She quickly turned off the heat and retrieved two cups from the cupboard. After pouring the tea (completely ignoring Jason's request), she hurried into the sitting room.

"Oh, just lovely, Hermy. These cups are absolutely stunning!" Jason said, admiring the mug in his hand. "You know, my mother has genuine cups from the early 1400's…"

Hermione pretended to listen as Jason droned on about God knows what, her saying "Mhm" and "Oh" when needed. Truth be told, she actually thought Jason would have left by then. She was sorely mistaken. It wasn't even that, really. If he didn't have the personality of a ninety-year old, it wouldn't have been so bad. Unfortunately, all Jason did was talk about him, whether it was about his precious cups or how brilliantly he used the English language. Hermione decided she'd rather spend a week with the Malfoys than have to ever listen to Jason again.

"Hermione, are you even listening to me?" Jason demanded, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Of course I am. Would you mind getting your hand out of my face?"

"Sorry. It's just that you had this strange grin on your face when I was talking about the death of my uncle. I figured you mustn't have heard me, because who would smile about death?" he explained without Hermione even asking.

"Oh dear. I must have zoned off. Sorry, Jason." She then stretched, faking a yawn. "I'm awfully tired. It'd be best if we just call it a night."

"Indeed. I'm a bit tired myself," he answered, putting his jacket on. "I'll be in touch."

As soon as he left, Hermione picked up the flowers and tossed them into the rubbish bin.

"If only he would forget he was ever here," she muttered to herself. She hoped desperately he wouldn't come around anymore.

Hermione awoke from a bitter cold, shivering beneath her covers. She glanced around, and noticed her window was open. _That's odd. I swore I closed it before bed, _she mused. _I must have forgotten._ She changed quickly and hurried downstairs for breakfast. She was sipping her coffee and reading the Daily Prophet when an article caught her eye.

**Death Eaters: Back again?**

_Peter Welling, who was at the Leaky Cauldron for a late night drink, overheard two wizards in deep discussion. "I distinctly heard You-Know-Who's name come out of their mouths numerous times," he told us. "They didn't speak of him in disgust either. They sounded as if they worshipped him!" Peter went on to say that he heard a few snippets of their conversation, but none were really out of the ordinary. The two wizards we speak of were said to be wearing dark, long cloaks with a hood over their heads. If they are Death Eaters, it wouldn't be that big of a deal, as You-Know-Who is dead. The Great Harry Potter, an Auror at the Ministry of Magic, defeated him. The Ministry is looking into the matter, so readers needn't worry._

Hermione threw the paper down in disgust. The things they put into the Daily Prophet! As if the "Death Eaters" would honestly talk in public about it. All the paper was doing was worrying the readers. Nothing more than that. Glancing at her watch, she realised that she was going to be late for work. _Just great_, she mumbled to herself, grabbing her bag and running out the door. With two weeks off, she had gotten rather used to going about the day in a leisurely way. Now she would be back to running to the bookstore to be on time.

She stormed into the store, breathing heavily. Had she made it? Her boss, Mr. Luton, a thin, elderly man with all five senses sufficient, approached from the back room.

"Hermione," he whispered, staring at her. Ironically enough, it was when he whispered did she become worried, not when he yelled. "You're late…again."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just getting used to working again and it just caught-" she explained frantically.

"I don't need excuses," he started, interrupting her. "What I need is efficiency. And apart from arriving late everyday, you've got it. I suppose that if I made your workday start later, you'd probably be late anyways. Just keep arriving at the same time, and I'll let it slide."

"Thank you, sir," she answered, smiling.

"Now, get behind this desk to help customers!" he demanded, and before he went into the backroom again, he returned her smile.

Hermione sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. He could have fired her many times, but he kept her. She wasn't entirely sure why, but she was grateful for his kindness. Something else was bothering her, too. She couldn't figure out why she was always late. At Hogwarts, if she had been late, she'd reprimand herself for hours, arriving early for the rest of the year. Now, it was different. She couldn't seem to care enough to be early. Was that the person she was? Yes, the war changed a lot of people, and she supposed that she had changed, too, despite what she previously led herself to believe.

Thinking back on it, everyone she knew had changed. Harry changed only a little, but it showed in his personality. He didn't really stand up for things anymore. He was no longer the stubborn, fearless boy she had known most of her life. Harry's trademarked personality had faded, long gone, just as Voldemort had. Ron, well, he was Ron, but he was different. Somehow, he had gained self-confidence, proving him worthy of being someone other than a silly sidekick as a lot of people thought of him as. Hermione never told him the truth. If she had, he probably would never have talked to her or Harry again. Ginny went from a fiery, bat-bogey hexer to a homemaker. A remarkable difference from each other, that was for sure.

And then there was Draco. He, in Hermione's eyes, had transformed the most. This change puzzled her the most, too. How does one go from a Death Eater to quiet and insightful? It made absolutely no sense.

"Miss, could you help me, please? I'm looking for a book on plants and I don't know where to look," a woman asked, tapping the counter with her long fingernails impatiently.

"Yes, of course! Right this way. Is there any type of plant in particular that you want to read about…" Hermione helped the woman for another ten minutes, and when the woman found what she was looking for, she paid and was on her way.

A few younger wizards strode in, glancing around. "Hello, how can I help you today, boys?" she asked, smiling.

"Oh, we're just browsing. We'll let you know if we need anything…er…" said one of the boys who looked to be about nineteen or twenty.

"Hermione," she answered.

"Right. Thanks," he said, smiling.

The boys browsed around for a little while, and the youngest, who looked about five or six, was starting to get a little anxious. "It's so quiet in here! Can we please go!" he cried.

The oldest knelt down to his level. "Ralph, listen. How about you and the others go to the ice cream shop down the street. I need to get a book. Alright?"

"Ice cream!" Ralph cried. "Let's go!"

As the boys filed out, the one that talked to Ralph called, "I'll meet you there in a little while."

"Kids," he stated, smiling. "Sorry about that. My brothers can get a little rowdy."

"Oh, it's alright. It happens," she answered, smiling.

He went over to the counter. "I'm Aaron," he told her, extending his hand.

She shook his hand, getting a good look at him. He was tall, with dark purple hair spiked up. There was something about him that was familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. One thing struck her in particular, and that was the fact that he looked like he read a lot of books. She didn't know how she could point out that quality, but she knew she could.

"Hermione," she said without realising that she had already told him before.

"I know," he answered, grinning again. "You told me, remember?"

"Oh, I suppose you're right," she answered, blushing.

He grinned again, and stared at a random object behind her. "So, anything you recommend?"

"There are loads of fantastic books here. There's one I've just begun reading that's amazing. It's a history-romance type of book and it's beautifully written. I know it's probably not your cup of tea, but if you like those kinds of books, it'd be brilliant," she explained, far too quickly.

"Ah, I see. Listen, I was just wondering, um. If you aren't busy or anything, would you like to get a cup of coffee later today?"

Did he just ask her out? She was not expecting that. He did seem sane enough, but should she accept? Well, what better opportunity than now to get over Draco.

"Sure, I'd love to. I'll meet you at the coffee shop down the street from here. Is that alright?"

"Perfect! I'll see you then, Hermione!" He grinned widely again and zoomed out of the store, running down the street.

Hopefully it wouldn't be another date doomed for disaster!

Hermione and Aaron had talked well into the night, and Aaron offered to walk her home— an offer she took graciously. As they walked along, they talked of various things, mostly books. The crisp air made Hermione shiver, the air was still, the street quiet and lifeless.

"Something is odd about this place," she whispered, pulling out her wand.

"Right you are. I wonder why," the young wizard mused.

"_Expelliarmus!_" a voice cried from behind them, hitting Hermione's wand out of her hands.

"What the-oh, bloody hell. I don't have time for this," Aaron muttered, staring at the group of men in front of them.

"Give us the girl," one of them demanded. "And you won't be harmed."

"Promise?" Aaron answered. Hermione glared at him.

"WHAT? You're leaving me here alone? You little-" Hermione started.

"Shut up girl. Run along, you," the man ordered, shooing Aaron away. He did as he was told. That bastard!

The group was moving in on her, and she was completely surrounded. What was she going to do without her wand?

"Leave me alone!" she cried desperately.

"Mudbloods go first, I'm afraid. No leaving any behind this time," one sneered, grinning at her in a way which made Hermione rather disgusted.

"You're going to kill me, then?" she inquired, trying to buy time.

"Worse," the man closest to her stated.

Hermione laughed nervously. "What could be worse than death?"

"Watching others around you die."

Hermione glanced around nervously. What were they going to do?

"You really think that you are really going to be somebody being a Death Eater? Did you ever once feel any pride in having to follow orders from Voldemort? You were no one! Now he's dead, and you are _still_ no one." Even though she sounded as if she wasn't afraid, she was terrified inside.

"Don't you dare say his name, Mudblood. If he heard you…"

"How can he hear me? Are you all insane? He's DEAD!" she snapped at the idiots around her.

"You think that Potter killed him? That's a joke. We are still the followers of Voldemort. He will be reborn."

Reborn? But they had destroyed all the Horcruxes. He was mortal, and Harry killed him. He was gone. How could the dead be reborn?

"You've been highly misinformed."

"That's what you think. Let's have a little fun, shall we? Cru-"

"_Incarcerous!_" a voice cried from nowhere. Ropes wrapped themselves around the men, missing Hermione.

A shadow approached from the darkness and into the light. It was Draco.

She ran over to him and hugged him, tears falling down her face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, allowing her to sob on him.

"I don't know," she answered uneasily, suddenly feeling dizzy, and fell lifelessly into his outstretched arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: The Serpent Has a Heart**

Draco sat on the edge of his bed and watched Hermione's chest rise and fall as she breathed. To him, she looked so peaceful, so angelic. So beautiful.

It had pained him that night to see her surrounded by those men, so helpless and fearful. After all that she had been through, her life was threatened all over again. It just wasn't fair to her. She deserved so much more than that. She deserved to be cherished and loved. Protected against everything bad in the world. And he felt as if it was his job to protect her, to make sure nothing was to happen to her again.

She turned over, opening her eyes. "Hi," she whispered, a small smile spreading across her face.

Draco returned the smile, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. "Alright?"

She nodded. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get you some. Wait here. Do you want anything else? Sausage, biscuits?"

"No, just coffee," she answered, closing her eyes again and curling under the covers.

Draco started the coffee and stared out the window. How much he would give to wake up every morning next to her. To see her smiling face, to hear her whisper in his ear, to feel her warmth next to him. She meant the world to him. She was the only one that made him weak in the knees whenever she was around him. The only one who could make butterflies swirl around in his stomach. The only one that understood him, the only one who could light up his day. The only one that could make him go crazy by just speaking to her.

Draco poured the finished coffee into the two cups laid out in front of him and brought them into his room. Hermione sat up and took one, sipping it graciously, while Draco just stood and watched her.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked curiously.

"What?"

"Do I really look that bad?"

Draco was silent. He was fighting what was about to come out of his mouth. He couldn't very well tell her that she looked absolutely stunning, could he?

"No-er-not really." He was stuttering. Malfoy's did not stutter!

"Then what?" she demanded.

"You look beautiful," he told her. Did he just tell her that? Oh god.

Hermione blushed furiously, and looked down, pretending to examine a fingernail. Silence ensued.

Clearing his throat, he sat down in a chair and looked up at her. "Erm, if you don't mind me asking, why were you alone in the middle of the night?"

"What? Oh, well…" She blushed again and looked away. "I was on a date. He was walking me home when those…Death Eaters just surrounded us. They turned to Aaron—that was his name, the bastard—and told him that if he gave me to them, then he wouldn't be harmed. So he did and…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears.

Draco hurried to her, wiping the tears from her face. He lifted up her chin with his hand, looking into her eyes. "Hey, it's alright. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you."

As she sobbed, he pulled her close, comforting her. Unlike before, when he didn't know how to help her, he felt he was able to care for her, make her feel safe.

"My parents, they were killed by Death Eaters," she whispered suddenly. "It was my fault, too. If I hadn't left them alone…"

"As much as anyone would like to, they can't keep their loved ones from dying. Don't blame yourself, Hermione. It wasn't anyone's fault."

At that moment, Hermione pulled Draco in for a kiss. He started to kiss her, but then moved away, shaking his head.

"No," he started, "this isn't right. You're vulnerable. I'd bet that if that bloke Aaron was here with you, you'd kiss him, and he left you to die!"

Hermione looked as if someone had slapped her in the face. "How can you say that? We've been pulling away so much, and then when I finally get up the nerve to kiss you, you pull away again!? You are a bloody arsehole. Don't ever speak to me again!" She got up from the bed and stormed out of his room. The door slammed shut, and all was silent.

Draco had to admit that if it was up to him, he probably would have kissed her until the sun went down. He couldn't use her like that, not in the state she was in. They both knew it was a good idea to stop, yet Hermione got mad at him. Could he really have messed up? Maybe he should talk to her about it. No, it'd just make it worse. Let her come to him. In time, she would realise that he was being sharp about things.

It was Christmas Eve, and one week since Draco and Hermione had the argument. He had to find a way to talk to her. She had overblown the whole situation, and he needed to fix it. He decided he'd go over to her house and try and reason with her. As he opened his door to leave, Hermione was on the other side.

"Draco," she started, giving him a feeble smile, "can we talk for a moment?"

"Sure, sure. I was about to go outside for some fresh air," he lied. "Care to join me?"

She nodded, and followed him out the door and into the frozen air.

"Listen, Draco. I may have been overreacting a bit last week. I didn't mean to…attack you like that. Will you forgive me?" she asked quietly.

"I was never mad about it, Hermione. There's nothing to forgive. Are you alright, though? I'm worried about you."

"Yes, I'm fine. It's…just that…I'm afraid the Death Eaters are going to attack…soon."

"Why'd do say that?" Draco tried to act calm and nonchalant, so that she wouldn't suspect he knew anything.

"There have been a few other confrontations from so called Death Eaters since mine. Nothing serious, but ever since the Daily Prophet wrote a news article about it, people have been acting crazy."

"Well, I can assure you they aren't getting anywhere."

"Really? Have you been talking to your father, then?"

"My father has nothing to do with these Death Eaters," he told her, mocking the word. "I merely know that Voldemort is dead. Death Eaters aren't stupid enough to attack innocent people now. Not with no one to back them up."

"Yes, I suppose you're right…" she stated, shivering from the iciness in the air. "So, Draco. Ginny and Harry are having a huge Christmas party. They've invited you. Would you be willing to come with me?"

Draco hated parties, but where there's a party, there's alcohol. "Sure, love to."

"Your answer wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that there will be an open bar, would it?" she asked, smiling.

"Why, I would have thought you were cleverer than that, Granger. Me, accepting an offer based solely on the free drinks? Never assume I'd just be there for you?"

"Not a chance, Malfoy. I have to go to work, so I'll see you there around seven, alright?"

"I'll see you then," he answered. Hermione waved goodbye and walked away, leaving him alone in the middle of the town.

Draco waited in front of the building, worried that he was being stood up. He had been waiting for at least fifteen minutes, the time slowly inching away. He quickly decided he'd give Hermione five more minutes and then he'd go back inside and have himself some firewhiskey and fall asleep on the floor.

Five minutes passed, and as he started to walk towards the entrance, Hermione strode out. Draco had to admit, she looked absolutely breathtaking. Her dress was a deep green that flowed just above her ankles. Her hair was halfway up, strands of hair falling perfectly around her face. Even though she wore no make-up, he knew she was the most beautiful woman he would ever lay eyes on.

Instead of telling her exactly what he was thinking, he said, "Took you long enough. I was about to leave."

"Well, wasn't that thoughtful of you. I wouldn't expect any less of you, Malfoy," she responded coolly.

Draco laughed as he put his arm towards her, daring her to link hers in his. "Shall we go, then? Wouldn't want to keep precious Potter waiting, now would we?"

The two Apparated to the house, bright lights hung everywhere. Hermione commented, saying how beautiful a sight it was, but Draco rather thought it was something straight out of thriller novel. Joy and holiday cheer written all over it.

As they walked to the front door, Draco was lectured on how much he was not to drink. "I know it's very tempting, but do try and stop yourself from drinking the whole bar in one sitting. You have a serious problem, and you need to find some help on it. I won't drink if you won't. Do we have a deal?"

Draco wasn't sure how they went from trying to drink only a little to stopping all together, but he didn't like it one bit. "Yes, we have a deal," he replied lazily. Did he just agree to that? What was getting into him?

"Good. I promise you won't regret it. It can still be fun!" she told him as she knocked on the door. "Stick with me, and you'll be just fine."

"Fat chance," Draco mumbled under his breath.

Ginny answered the door, greeting Draco—not Hermione—with open arms. "How are you? Good?"

Draco gave the woman an awkward hug, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. As he did so, he glanced over at Hermione, who was throwing daggers at Ginny with her eyes. He smiled, suppressing a laugh. It seemed as though some of Draco was starting to rub off on her. Ginny ran back inside, and Draco just noticed that she was getting a bit of a bulge in her tummy area. Potter was in for a long ride, that was for sure, and this only made Draco smile even wider.

"Do you want something to drink, Draco?" she asked, smiling widely.

"I…er…eggnog?" he requested, looking worried.

Ginny gave him a puzzled look. "Eggnog? No firewhiskey tonight?"

"No," Hermione started, cutting in. "He's agreed to stay sober for a change."

Draco frowned, trying hard not to speak his mind about what he wanted to do. "Yes, for a change. By tomorrow I'll have gone insane. You wait!" he cried, mostly to Hermione.

Harry entered, followed by Ron and Helena, grinning when he saw his wife. "Quite a party, love," he whispered, kissing her and rubbing her belly.

"Get a room if you don't want to make me sick," Draco sneered, disgusted by the view he was given.

"Shut up!" Ron cried, giving him a look to kill.

"Draco, don't even start. I swear, both of you act like children!" Hermione reprimanded, shaking her head.

"Harry! Ginny!" a plump woman with greying red hair cried, bursting into the house with a smile. "I'm so happy for you! A baby!"

Draco realised that this woman was Ginny's mother. It was amazing how he hadn't figured that out before then, being as every member in the Weasley family had red hair. After her, four more fire-haired adults walked in. Draco counted in his head. There were a total of nine Weasels, but only seven were there. Draco's head ached as he tried to remember something vitally important. Ah, yes. Percy, the prat that strode about the castle with his nose in the air as if he was better than even Draco, had died at the hands of Voldemort. There was still one unaccounted for, but who could it be?

"Hermione, there's one missing," he whispered to her.

"What? One missing of what?" she asked, confused.

"The Weasels. I counted seven, and Percy died. Who's missing?"

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Why do you care all of a sudden? Could it be you have a heart after all?"

"Did you just say Percy, dear?" Mrs. Weasley questioned.

Hermione's eyes widened and she put a hand over her mouth.

"No, of course not, Polly," Draco started, trying to calm her. "I was just saying how I was thirsty. I would see how you could get that confused." He had a hard time remembering the names of all of them, but Polly seemed right to him.

"Oh, yes, of course…" she whispered, trailing off.

Hermione grabbed Draco by the hand and dragged him through chatting people and into an empty room.

"I didn't know you wanted me that bad, Granger, but I'm willing to if you are," he purred, smirking.

She slapped him, her eyes still wide. "You idiot! You know very well why I brought you up here."

"Do you honestly think that if I knew that, we'd be having this stupid conversation?"

She sighed, flopping on the bed angrily. "You are such a pain, you know that?"

"What did I do?"

"Why'd you have to go on about the bloody missing members of the bloody family? She was just starting to forget…"

"You aren't honestly suggesting this is my fault, are you? I am by no means at fault here. You could have told me to shut up instead of gloating about how Draco Malfoy actually cares a fucking rat's arse about people!"

Hermione looked taken aback, but quickly hid her surprise. "Draco," she started, looking at the ground, "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. Could we just put it behind us?"

"I keep trying, but you continue to give me more. I'm losing room back there!" he answered seriously.

Hermione laughed. Draco decided that he should make her infuriated more often. He loved how lovely she looked when she was angry.

"I forgot I had gotten something for you," he told her.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Malfoy."

"I know. It's not much, but it's something." He pulled out a small box from his coat and handed it to her.

She untied the ribbon slowly and lifted the top just as carefully. She pulled the item out, revealing a silver necklace with a miniature silver book with a green serpent around it.

"Draco, I don't know what to say. It's beautiful. Than-"

"Keep it with you always. It'll protect you," he whispered and after kissing her lightly on her forehead, he walked out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Lasting Scars**

Hermione strolled down the street. The snow was falling, and most homes were lit brightly with Christmas lights. It was just as it was when she lived with her parents. She had lived in a small town, all Muggles of course, but she hadn't ever known her neighbours. The children thought she was strange, reading all the time, and it didn't help that her hair was a bushy disaster. Despite this, she still loved the town.

She paused in front of her old home, now occupied by a family of seven. She missed her parents, and the house reminded her of them. The first Christmas had been the hardest; she spent the entire day crying, locked up in her dormitory at Hogwarts. She lost her parents to the war, a war they weren't even a part of. If she hadn't gone to Hogwarts, maybe it could have been prevented, but she had long left the what-ifs behind.

She continued down the road, pulling her coat closer to her. A tear slipped down her face and she quickly wiped it away. Why did she even come back? There was nothing for her there. Grasping the lilies to be sure they were still there, she stopped in front of the graveyard. After taking a few deep breaths, she entered, moving towards the graves of her parents. She stopped fighting the tears that were forcing their way through as she placed the lilies on each of their graves.

"I miss you," she whispered. "It wasn't the same without you this Christmas. I remember when we used to make a ham dinner, singing Christmas carols all day and opening presents at the end of the night. Remember when Uncle Harold came for a visit? He bought daddy two mismatched socks and a can opener." Hermione laughed softly, trying to fill the empty silence.

She knew they weren't going to answer, but part of her hoped that they would magically appear behind her and everything would be the same. Every year she wished the same thing, yet, every year, no sign of her parents was found. After a few more minutes, Hermione decided to leave the graveyard and Apparated back to her flat. She curled up in front of the fire with a book, and spent the remaining day reading, trying to forget the bad days.

"_Draco!" the voice boomed at him. "You have disappointed me. You were supposed to kill Dumbledore, not leave it to Snape to do your job. You will be severely punished for this."_

"_Please, I was going to, but he just ran over and did it-" Draco started._

"_Crucio!"_

_Draco writhed around in agonising pain, screaming. He dug his nails into his skin, creating large, deep wounds in his arms. Soon, everything went dark._

Draco awoke, sweating and panting. It was the dream again. He hadn't had it since the war ended, so it was odd that he got it again. He hated it; he could feel the pain he felt that night. He glanced at his forearms, tracing the scars with his fingers, wincing in pain. They only hurt after his dream, as if the gashes had just appeared. They burned intensely, making them noticeable. He'd always conceal them with a spell, so no one would ever notice them, especially him. He had tried so hard to forget that night.

He rose from his bed and stepped into the bathroom. He splashed water across his face, an icy cold feeling reaching his skin. This calmed him, and he went into the kitchen to start water for tea. He had thrown out all his firewhiskey, so that was all he had to drink. He hated tea, especially the only one he had in the cupboard waiting to be drunk. He grimaced at the thought; tea that tasted of plants. The water screeched and he quickly turned it off. After he poured the water into the cup, he took a sip, immediately spitting it out. It was worse than he remembered. He placed it back on the counter and dressed to go to work.

Draco tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter, watching the old man currently browsing around pick up each potion, read the labels, and set it back on the shelf. He had been doing that continually for the past hour, and Draco was getting annoyed.

"Sir, do you need any help?" he asked for the third time, doing everything in his power not to scream and shout at him.

"No, no. Thank you, dear boy. I'm just browsing," the man replied absently. That's what he had said the first two times.

Draco rolled his eyes, wishing that he chose a different profession that didn't involve bothersome people. A man walked in, causing the bell to ring on the door. Draco noted to remove it, as it was just as annoying as the old man was.

"Hello," the man greeted, walking up to the counter.

"Can I help you with something?" Draco asked in a bored voice.

"Yes, actually. I need to buy two sleeping potions. My son hasn't slept for days and-"

"I honestly don't care what you need it for. I'll get them from the back," Draco retorted, glad for an excuse to leave the room.

He took his sweet time in returning to the front. When he finally did, he placed the potions carefully into a bag and handed it to the man.

"That'll be two galleons."

"Thanks very much, Draco," the man said.

Draco froze. How did this man know him? "I don't remember telling you my name, nor do I have a name tag."

"Oh, you must not recognise me, then. Blaise Zabini, from Hogwarts?"

Draco merely raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"How've you been? Last I heard, you disappeared, off to the States or something," Blaise said.

Draco laughed. "People still talking about me, then? That's a comforting thought."

"Yeah, well, you know how they are."

"How…are you, Blaise?" Draco didn't really talk to Blaise much, but he thought he would try to be pleasant for a change.

"Good, good. I married Pansy, and we have two boys, Chris and James. How about you? Seeing anyone these days?"

"I…er…not really. Not since Hogwarts, actually."

Blaise looked at him in surprise. "Honestly? Merlin! Why not?"

Draco shrugged. "I just don't have any interest in anyone."

"You must be a lonely bastard, then. Tell you what. I'll owl you later tonight and set you up with a friend of Pansy's. Merlin knows she has loads of single friends."

"I don't really-"

"Brilliant. It was good talking to you, Malfoy. I'll let you get back to work." After waving goodbye, he exited through the door.

The old man looked over at Draco and grinned. "I've finished my browsing. Same time tomorrow, then."

As the old man left, Draco called, "Oh, you stupid man! Don't come back unless you're going to buy something!"

Draco drank his water, listening to the girl Blaise set him up with drag on and on about something to do with soup. He honestly didn't care, nor did he have any interest in her at all. She was just like Pansy, which he was disgusted with.

"So, anyway, tell me something about you, Draco! You're so mysterious," she said too loudly.

"There's nothing interesting about me," he told her.

"Oh." For the first time that night, she had shut her mouth, and for that, Draco was grateful.

She stirred her drink, boredom evident in her eyes. "You went to Hogwarts, then?"

"Yes, I did."

"That's interesting. So, have you travelled at all?"

"A little, I suppose. A few places in Europe, but that's it."

"I've been almost everywhere. My parents were very culture based, and loved to go places. It was actually fun!"

Draco lifted his glass and took a long drink from it. Lana, which was his date's name, looked at his arms in shock.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered, quickly pulling his sleeves down. He had forgotten to cast the spell before he left his flat.

"Can I see them?"

Draco reluctantly outstretched his arm. She moved her finger along the scar, which made Draco cringe in pain.

"That hurt!" he snapped, pulling his arm away.

"Sorry," she answered sincerely. "How did that happen?" she whispered.

"I don't like talking about it."

"Alright." After a moment of silence, she looked at him. "You don't want to be here, do you?"

"That's not…exactly true."

"You love someone, don't you?"

Draco wondered how she could have guessed that. She was definitely smarter than Pansy. Draco didn't answer.

"What's her name?"

"You don't want to hear about her. I'd bore you."

"I do want to know. I wish I could be in love."

Draco felt sorry for her. She was a nice girl, and it was sad to have to reject her. "I'm sure you'll find someone," he told her, trying to make her feel better.

She laughed. "Maybe. So what's her name?"

"Hermione." And he went on to tell her the story, and how much he wanted her back.

"Wow. If I were her, I'd jump at the chance to be with you. You're different from other guys. A lot better than the scumbags I keep meeting. Hermione's a lucky girl."

Draco thought about Lana's words. If only Hermione would give him the light of day, she would know how much better everything could be with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Apologies Not Understood

Hermione was standing behind the counter of the bookstore when Draco entered. She was curious as to what he was doing there, but after all, it was a public place. As soon as he saw her, he looked away quickly and looked as if he was debating whether to leave or not. He finally moved towards a bookcase, his back facing Hermione. Hermione watched him pick up one book after another. He had been reading a book for about five minutes before Hermione finally spoke.

"That book is upside down, you know," she told him, stifling a laugh.

Draco looked down at his book, realising he had blown his cover. "I—er—how are you?"

"Fine," she answered, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, since last year, actually. It's nice."

He nodded and moved his gaze to the window. "How was the rest of your Christmas?"

"It was fine. I-"

"Hermione! Work, not socialise!" Mr. Luton interrupted, entering from the backroom.

Hermione gave Draco an apologetic look. He nodded in understanding. "I'll owl you later, if you want," he told her, exiting the bookstore.

"A new boyfriend?" the old man asked.

"No, not exactly," she replied, staring as Draco disappeared into the crowd. The truth was, she didn't know what he was to her.

"You work really late, you know," Draco mused as Hermione exited the shop.

Hermione looked startled, glaring at him. "Draco," she hissed. "You scared me!"

"Sorry," he replied. "Care for a walk? I've got hot chocolate." He handed her a mug.

"You, drink hot chocolate? I thought you were more of a firewhiskey type of man," she teased, taking the cocoa gratefully.

"No, not anymore. I quit." He had stopped drinking it because he hadn't had a real reason to for a long while.

Hermione laughed. "Good for you. May I ask why you wanted to go for a walk in the middle of a cold, blistering winter?"

"No, you may not," he answered, but a grin had spread across his face.

"Why are we—" Hermione started.

"Do you ever keep your questions to yourself? Just take a look around you. We're in the middle of beautiful London blanketed with newly fallen snow and all you ask is why we are here? Where's the fun in that?"

"I…it is beautiful," she whispered after a moment.

"Look, if you really want to know, I thought we could have a little chat. A heart to heart, if you will."

"I suppose that would be alright. What about?"

"Things," he said simply. Hermione looked as if she wanted so badly to object, but she said nothing. Draco smiled to himself.

"What are you smiling at?" she snapped. Draco didn't answer, but instead walked on ahead.

After a time, they ended up in front of the lake; the very lake Draco had brought Hermione to on one of their dates. He looked over at Hermione to see if she recognised the place, and the look on her face told him she had. Her mouth was agape, her brow furrowed like it always was when she was either furious or at a loss for words. In this case, it could have been both, but Draco wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

"I see you recognise this place," Draco stated.

"What is going on, Draco?" she demanded, standing in front of him, her eyes having to look up to make contact.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," she replied, moving closer to him, her eyes now blazing with fury.

"I just want to talk. About us."

"Us? There is no _us_, Draco."

True, they weren't together, but Draco knew they should be, and he also knew they would be even if it killed him. Although being dead wouldn't help in the long run, but that was beside the point. At the moment, he had to deal with the angry, ill-tempered woman in front of him.

"I'm ready to get back together," he said suddenly, forgetting all of the disadvantages to the idea.

"You're ready? Oh, well, that's a relief. Hey everyone, Draco is fucking ready to get back together!" she screamed, throwing her hands into the air. This wasn't going as he had originally planned.

"Calm down, Hermione," he urged, trying to grab hold of her hands.

"Don't bloody touch me, Malfoy. Don't you dare touch me ever again!" she yelped, slapping his hands away. What in the hell was wrong with her? 

"Hermione, please. Let's talk about this."

"You are so selfish!" she cried, storming away. She didn't get very far before she fell into the snow, crying. "This isn't how it was supposed to be. They weren't supposed to be dead!" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Everyone is sorry. They tell me they know how I feel, but they don't. No one besides Harry does, but he won't even talk about it. I have no one to turn to." She wiped a few tears off her face. "I miss them, Draco. I want my parents back."

"Life can be so unfair, but you have people who love you. You're not alone."

"How can you say I'm not alone when I don't have anyone? My best friends hardly notice me, the countless dates I've been on have all been a waste of time, and my parents are dead. No one is there to listen to me."

"I am," he replied quietly.

Hermione looked flustered, but quickly regained her composure. "Why do you care so much? I broke your heart to pieces. You should hate me right now."

Draco shrugged. "Can't help who you love, I guess." And it was true. He hadn't meant to fall in love with the bushy-haired Gryffindor. It had just happened, all out of his control. And to be honest, he wouldn't give it back for anything.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. What had she to be sorry for? She gave him the best year of his life.

"Don't be," he answered, waving his hand through the air.

"No, I really need to say this. I'm sorry about all these years you waited for me, but to no avail."

"What are you trying to say? That we will never be together?"

"I don't know what I'm saying," she answered, sighing.

"Just give it a shot. What have we got to lose?" Draco urged, hoping she'd say yes.

She stood, her brown eyes full of sorrow and tears, her hair sprinkled with snow. As she turned to leave, she said, "I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry I love you."

Draco watched her leave, stunned at what had just occurred. How could this have happened? It wasn't even that they had argued; her last words lingered, burning inside him. He had to figure out exactly what she meant. She was sorry she loves him? What did that even mean?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Once a Death Eater, Always a Death Eater**

"Shit!" Ginny cried from the kitchen. "I hate this oven! Everything always burns!"

"Do you need help, Gin?" Hermione offered as she walked into the smoke filled room.

"No, thanks though. Let's just get Harry to go out and get something to eat." She tottered into the living room. She was now eight months pregnant, and she was starting to look like a penguin as she walked. "Harry! Where the hell are you?"

"Coming, love!" he yelled from upstairs. When he came downstairs, he quickly went into husband mode. "Do you need anything? Chocolate? Fish? Chocolate covered fish?"

Hermione cringed at the thought, disgusted that anyone would eat that.

"That does sound delicious, but no. Can you go and get us some food? I'm starving and I just burnt the remaining of that casserole Mmum sent us."

"Yeah. What do you want?" he asked.

As Ginny listed off everything she wanted, yelling at him to not forget the fish again, Hermione's thoughts wandered. It had been four and a half months since she had seen Draco, four and a half lonely months. She missed him dreadfully, but she couldn't bring herself to talk to him. She moved in with Harry and Ginny to avoid him at all costs. He hadn't tried to find her, which, deep inside, made her kind of disappointed. She half-hoped that he would just show up at Harry's doorstep, but no Draco never appeared. She wanted him to ask her what she had meant by being sorry. Truth be told, she didn't think that she could be what he wanted. Ever since her parents died, she hadn't been able to love anyone. It just wasn't fair to him if she couldn't give him the love he was asking for.

"Hermione, is that alright with you?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"Yes, that's fine," she replied airily, not sure what exactly she agreed to.

Harry left hurriedly before Ginny could tell him to get anything else. The two women went into the sitting room, the spring sun pouring through the windows.

"So, what happened with you and Draco anyway?" Ginny questioned. "You two are perfect for each other."

"Why do you say that?" Hermione demanded, ignoring her question.

"The way you two would look at each other when you thought no one was looking, for one. _Everyone_ was looking, let me tell you. Another was the way you two could talk to each other, the way you react to each other. It all fits. You were in love."

"Well, it's all in the past now. He's probably forgotten about me."

Ginny looked surprised. "I don't think he ever could or will. He loves you, Hermione. You were the only who couldn't see it."

Hermione merely nodded, but inside she was just putting the pieces together. "Well, after Ron's wedding, I'll be off to America."

"I still don't know why you'd want to go there. It's full of idiots, if you ask me," Ginny stated.

"I get to teach, and that's all that matters. I've been waiting all my life for an opportunity like this." An opportunity to run away from her problems was more like it.

"Alright, alright. I can't believe my prick of a brother is getting married tomorrow. I thought he'd be alone forever," Ginny commented, giggling.

"Ginny! That's horrible!"

"I know, but honestly. He's such a pig; it's a wonder you even used to like him."

"I don't know what I was thinking," Hermione said, laughing.

The two friends chatted for a bit longer until the food, and Harry, arrived. When Ginny left the room to go to the loo for about the tenth time that day (she was pregnant, after all), Harry took an opportunity to talk to Hermione.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

"I'm alright, I suppose. I'm just glad I get to leave this place the day after tomorrow!"

"I'm going to miss you, 'Mione. We all are. You'll always have a place here if you want it."

"Thanks Harry. That means a lot. I'm going to miss all of you so much!" She gave him a giant hug.

"Honestly, Hermione. You don't want to see me cry," Ginny informed her as she entered the room.

"I'd like to make a toast," a drunken friend of Helena's slurred as she tried to steady herself on a table.

"Honey, please, get down and drink some coffee," Helena insisted, trying to get her on solid ground.

They were at Helena's bachelorette party, and Hermione was bored out of her mind. All of Helena's friends were either really stuck up and sober or really stuck up and drunk. Most of them were drunk. She wasn't really enjoying herself either. All she could think about was leaving; leaving everything and _everyone_ behind.

"I could go for a drink right about now," Ginny commented as she walked over to Hermione. "These girls are driving me mad!"

"I'll get you some tea," Hermione told her, hurrying to the table. She bumped into Pansy, surprising her and herself.

"Pansy?" Hermione questioned.

"Uh, yeah. Do I know you?" Pansy asked, giving Hermione a puzzled look.

"I'm Hermione. I used to go to Hogwarts with you, but possibly you probably don't remember me."

"I remember you, I just didn't recognisze you," Pansy explained. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I didn't know you knew Helena…"

"I don't. A friend of mine dragged me along. Helena's a prude," Pansy commented, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Oh, Ggod, I know!" Finally someone agreed with her!

"Well, it was-—er—-nice talking to you. We should do something sometime, alright?"

"I'm actually moving to America the day after tomorrow," Hermione told her.

"Are you? Well, good luck, then." After giving her a small hug, she whispered, "The men there are idiots. Our lot are geniuses compared to them."

It was strange how people Hermione knew years ago, people who hated her and her house, could change so drastically. She never knew Pansy to be a friendly person, let alone one who would talk to a Gryffindor. But, she supposed, it was in the past, and as she noticed so often these days, people change.

"What was that all about? Do I need to go hex her for you?" Ginny asked when she came back.

"No, no. Everything's just fine. We were just having a friendly chat."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Um, alright, then. How about we go. I'm getting bored."

Draco awoke from a deep sleep. The spring sun was peeking through the shades, shining in his eyes. Grumbling, he staggered from his bed and through the door. He started the water for coffee and grabbed an orange. He started to peel it, but heard a knock on the door and set it down.

"What could you possibly want at six in the morning?" he asked rudely as he opened the door. It was his father.

"Hello, Draco," he greeted just as coldly.

Draco slammed the door in Lucius' face, frowning. He had a lot of nerve to show up at his door. There was another knock, this time it was louder. Draco ignored it, merely sitting on the sofa and flipping through the Daily Prophet. Soon, the door flew open and his father approached.

"You know, it's very rude to slam doors on your guests," he told Draco icily as he invited himself to sit on the sofa.

"Is that so? I wasn't aware you were invited, so therefore you couldn't possibly be a guest," Draco replied smoothly, smirking.

"Grudges aside, Draco, I need to speak with you. It's urgent." For the first time, Draco saw a flicker of vulnerability in his father's eyes.

"What is it?" Draco asked lazily.

"It's Greyback. He wants your help. He says that if you refuse, he'll make sure you pay," his father told him worriedly.

"Why do you care? I can handle things on my own," Draco demanded.

"Whether I like it or not, you are my son, and I have to make sure you are alright," Lucius answered quietly.

"Well, you certainly haven't thought about me all these years, so your help isn't welcome. Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he replied coldly, motioning to the door.

Lucius stood and nodded. "I see. Just keep a careful eye on things. They may not be what they appear." He walked swiftly out the door, closing it tightly behind him.

"They may not be what they appear," Draco mumbled to himself. "What is that supposed to mean?"

What did it mean? Did his father know something he didn't? It was probably just Lucius' way to try and get him to join his stupid Death Eater revolt.

When evening came around, Draco decided to take a stroll about the city. The air was cool, but not cold enough to wear a jumper. He took a seat on a bench in front of the lake, staring into space. He had been doing that for several minutes when someone sat next to him.

"Hello, Draco. It's been a while since I've seen you," the voice growled.

Draco turned to face the man; it was Greyback. "What do you want?" Draco asked icily.

"I think you know what I want, Malfoy," he sneered.

"I refuse to join you," Draco stated flatly. "Find someone else."

"I know your father went to see you. He told you what would happen if you refuse. You don't want that, do you?"

"I honestly don't know what you could possibly do that could sway me," Draco answered coldly.

Greyback laughed; a cold, heartless laugh that sent chills up Draco's spine. "I think you're mistaken. Does the name Hermione mean anything to you?"

Draco stiffened, colour fading from his face. Greyback seemed to sense the fear in his eyes and used this to his advantage.

Greyback laughed again. "Yes, very good."

"You will leave her alone," Draco demanded, trying to stay calm.

"And you will join us," Greyback told him, smirking with satisfaction.

Draco felt torn between two worlds. The world he once was a part of and the world he wanted. "Fine," he agreed feebly.

"Good, I'll be in touch," Greyback hissed. He stood and disappeared into the shadows.

Draco knew at that moment that things were going as wrong as they could. He knew he had no choice if he wanted to save Hermione (maybe something like "keep Hermione safe," because her life isn't in danger until he actually refuses?). His own life could have been spared, but now he was in for the worst. He was forever bound to the Death Eater way.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: A Wedding Disaster

"These dresses are really ugly," Hermione remarked as she and Ginny stood in front of the mirror.

"They are, aren't they?" Ginny agreed.

Their bridesmaid dresses were bright pink (clashing horribly with Ginny's hair) with ruffles everywhere manageable. The bottom looked like a dress worn in the 1800's, not to mention that there were flowers imprinted all over it. It was more than ugly; it was horrifying and blinding to the eyes.

There was a knock at the door, causing the two women to turn around. "Come in!" Ginny called.

"Oh my God! My eyes!" Harry teased, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"Oh shut it, Harry," Ginny snapped.

"I was only joking, Ginny. You look beautiful," he commented, kissing her.

"I don't know how. Helena is going to regret this," Ginny told him.

Harry merely laughed. "Are you two ready to go? The ceremony starts in a half hour."

They nodded, and Harry linked his arms into theirs and Apparated to the beach where the wedding was being held. When they arrived, they glanced around. There was a huge canopy over what looked like thousands of chairs. There was a light wind and the sun was just starting to set, leaving an orange tint on everything.

"Hey mate," Ron called, running over to them to greet them.

"Hey, Ron," Harry greeted, hugging him. "Nervous?"

"As hell," he responded. He turned to look at the women. "I'm sorry," he told them, trying hard not to laugh.

"Your soon-to-be wife is mad, you know that?" Hermione informed him, whacking his shoulder.

"Speaking of Helena, where is she?" Ginny asked. "I want to personally thank her for these dresses."

"She's in that tent over there," Ron said, pointing behind him.

"Ginny, don't get too worked up. You're still pregnant, you know," Harry cautioned.

"As if I didn't know that, love. Let's go, Hermione," Ginny suggested.

The two women went to the tent, expecting to find Helena, but found no one. They browsed around and found a note on the table. They exchanged worried glances, Hermione picking up the note to read it.

_**Ronald,**_

_**I'm so sorry to have to do this to you, but I can't marry you. I've…met someone else. I do hope you can handle everything. Again, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me.**_

_**Goodbye,**_

_**Helena**_

"Oh no," Hermione whispered.

"What, what is it?" Ginny asked, grabbing the note from Hermione. When she read it, her eyes widened. "Oh no."

"What are we going to do? We can't give this to Ron. He'll be heartbroken!" Hermione said.

"We don't have any other choice, Hermione. He has to know," Ginny responded.

"Ginny, Hermione? I just wanted to be sure that you didn't kill Helena for those awful dresses…" Harry called from the other side of the opening. "Can I come in?"

"Harry…" Ginny replied worriedly.

"What? Is it the baby?" he asked, hurrying into the tent. He glanced around and saw the grim faces of the two women. "Where's Helena?"

Ginny handed him the note, and when he read it, his mouth opened wide and he stumbled backwards. "I guess we have to tell Ron…"

They nodded and exited the tent. Ron approached them with a smiling face. "How is my lovely bride?" Upon seeing their frowning, sad faces, his smile fell. "What aren't you telling me?"

"She's not here," Hermione whispered.

"Did she have a dress emergency?" he asked.

"She left this," Harry answered, handing him the note. "I'm so sorry, mate."

Ron face looked crestfallen, and Hermione felt so bad that he had to go through this. 

"I have to go," Ron said after a few minutes of silence. He Disapparated, leaving sand swirling around the spot where he had just stood.

"I'll go and tell everyone," Harry offered. "I can't believe this is happening."

Neither could Hermione. Ron deserved more than that. Much, much more.

"We should go," Ginny recommended. "There's going to be a lot of angry people."

"Yeah…" Hermione agreed. "Ron's going to need us."

The two Apparated back to Harry and Ginny's house to wait for Harry to return. When he did, he didn't look like the happiest of people. "Your mum is furious and heartbroken at the same time, Gin. I didn't even know that was physically possible," Harry stated.

"Should someone go and see how Ron is?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"We all should," Harry decided after a moment.

"I'll go and see him later," Ginny told them. "I'm a little worn out by this baby."

"Alright. Let's go, Hermione. We'll see you later, then, love," he said, and before Hermione and Harry Apparated to Ron's house, he kissed her goodbye.

They knocked on the door, only to receive a drunken reply of, "Go away."

"Ron, it's Harry and Hermione. We've come to check up on you," Hermione called.

The sound of a glass dropping and the shuffling of feet could be heard on the other side of the door. After a few moments, the door opened and an unhappy Ron stood in the opening.

"Come in," he said flatly.

"Ron," Harry started. "Do you need anything?"

"No, no. Unless you can give back five years of my life," Ron replied dryly.

"We're here for you, Ron. Just know that. You'll always have us," Hermione whispered.

"Actually, I do need something. Get me another drink, will you?"

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who shook his head. "Ron, I think you've had enough to drink. Perhaps you should lie down…"

"I knew she was seeing someone else," Ron said suddenly. "I could tell. Just as I knew you were secretly dating Draco at Hogwarts, Hermione. "

"Hermione?" Harry looked over at her. "You were dating Draco?"

Hermione ignored him, keeping her focus on Ron. "I'm not boyfriend material, from what you made it seem like." He looked down at his shoes. "I guess I'm not husband material either."

"Is that what you think?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowed. "I never dated you because I never loved you. I can't force myself to love anyone."

Harry looked from Hermione to Ron in confusion. "Did you really date Draco, Hermione?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"You hated him, remember?" she snapped. "But this isn't about me. We're here for Ron."

There was a pop and Ginny appeared. "Harry," she started, looking worried. "It's time."

"The Mudbloods go first," Greyback boomed. "Too many got away easy last time. We'll get them this time."

"Fenrir, I don't really understand why we're doing this. Shouldn't we have someone to follow? Who's going to be afraid of us alone?" Dolohov asked.

"No one," Draco piped up.

"Shut it, boy," Greyback sneered. "We have a leader."

"And who might that be?"

"Me," a voice whispered from the darkness. A tall man in a long, dark cloak moved forward.

"Who are you?" Crabbe asked.

"Snape?" Draco was surprised. He thought Snape was dead.

"Severus will lead us. He was the closest to The Dark Lord, and he knows what he's doing better than all of us," Lucius told everyone.

"Well, that certainly is interesting," Draco commented.

"Why is that?" Snape snapped.

"You certainly are one of the last people I'd ever want as a leader. Especially after all you've done," Draco answered.

"Why are you here, then?" he questioned. "If you don't like it, then leave. What's stopping you?"

"I can't," he replied incoherently.

"I see," Severus answered. "Tied down by your past. There isn't any way to escape the past life of a Death Eater. You joined years before, possibly a mistake on your part, and now you are drawn towards the massacre that is sure to follow. You, Draco, are bound by guilt, by fury, and by the want to kill burning in your veins."

"I don't want to kill people. That was in the past, and I didn't even want it then, either," Draco replied.

"It isn't the wanting that brings you back to your past. It's knowing you have to, because if you don't, your life is pay for the demur," Snape told him.

"Who are you to tell me what to do and think? You are nothing but a traitor!" Draco shouted.

"A traitor to whose side? Your side? What is your side, Draco? Do you think that the Ministry wants you? You are a Death Eater to them; they'd kill you soon as they looked at you."

"If that was so, they'd have killed me already. I am not a Death Eater, and although what I did in my past was wrong, I have the chance to redeem myself," Draco told him.

"Oh, is that so? How?"

"By not joining again," Draco whispered firmly. He then stood and Disapparated from the Manor before any of them could stop him.

Why did everything from his past keep coming back? First Hermione, and now the Death Eaters? Maybe he should leave; go to a far off land where no one would know him. Where no one would know his past, what he had to endure through his life. How could he keep fighting everything? He was growing tired, and he could only take so much.

If only he had someone to talk to. Someone who could help him make the right choices. But there was no one. He was alone…


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Draco Learns to…Drive?**

Ginny was in labour and Harry was in hysterics. As soon as Ginny told him, he started running all over like a madman. To say the least, it was horrible timing, but when had anything ever gone right? Harry Apparated Ginny to the hospital, Hermione and Ron following behind. Although Ron was still in shock from the failed wedding, his sister seemed to get in the way of any bad thoughts.

When they arrived at the nearest hospital, Harry rushed around some more, trying to remember which floor they should go to. Hermione finally went up to the receptionist, who told her what floor it was. Harry Apparated Ginny to the floor, Hermione and Ron following behind.

"I swear to God, Harry. Calm the fuck down before I have to throw a Pumpkin Pasty down your throat," Ginny hissed, trying to breathe in and out at the same time as talking.

"Ginny, no need to get violent, dear," the Healer cautioned. "Everything will be alright."

Ginny glared at her, and Harry intervened before Ginny could say anything. "Ginny, be nice to the kind lady," he said as if he was speaking to a small child instead of his twenty year old wife.

"Harry, I swear-" Ginny started.

"Ginny," Hermione said, "I have a magazine for you. Read it." She had conjured it at that moment. She didn't need anymore bickering.

Ron just laughed, and Hermione couldn't help but feel envious. Even after all that he had gone through he could still put a smile on his face. She so badly wished she could be as strong.

"If she's like this now, I don't want to see what happens when she's popping out that baby," Ron commented, grinning.

"I don't either," Hermione answered, smiling slightly. "Poor Harry."

"You've got that right," he replied.

The two went into the waiting room, and Hermione grabbed a magazine that was sitting on one of the tables. It was full of rich, happy witches and wizards and she quickly put it down.

After a moment, Ron turned to her. "How are you?"

"I'm just fine, Ron," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm worried about you," he replied. "You don't seem happy."

"That's coming from one who just got left at the altar," she snapped back.

There was sadness evident in his eyes, and Hermione instantly felt like an idiot for saying that. "I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean it."

"No, it's okay. I deserve everything that's happened to me," he replied sullenly.

"No," she answered, pushing back strands of hair from his distressed face, "you don't. No one deserves that, especially not you."

"It makes you wonder, doesn't it? How the people you love can destroy you within seconds. How is it that you can love someone one moment and hate them from their insides out the next?" he wondered, staring intensely at Hermione.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Hermione," he said, his face edging closer to her own.

Hermione became very aware to the fact of how close he was to her. She tried to move, but was already at the edge of the sofa. "Ron…" she started.

"We deserve to be happy," he told her, not moving from his spot. "Don't you think so?"

Hermione nodded faintly. "Ron, we can't do this…"

"I don't think I can go much longer," he continued, ignoring her words. "I need to be happy."

"Ron," she whispered feebly, "I don't love you."

Ron's body twitched at these words, and he moved himself away from her face. "I'm going to get us some coffee," he told her, not meeting her eyes.

Hermione watched him go, still stunned by what had just happened. Nothing in her life was easy, was it? She sighed, and, not wanting to be there when he returned, decided to take a walk around the hospital. It was strange how one so unhappy could find themselves in a hospital whose halls lingered with fear and death.

"Hermione!" a voice cried, bringing her back to reality. "Hermione! Hurry! It's time!"

She immediately realised that it was Harry who had called her name and hurried into the room where Ginny was.

"Where's Ron?" he asked when she entered.

"Um, getting coffee, I think," she answered coolly.

"Oh, good, you're here!" Ginny cried. "Tell that nurse that I want this baby out of me, now!"

After many painful hours of screaming, shouting, and throwing things all over the room, Ginny gave birth to a baby girl. As if Harry wasn't worried enough as it was, he now had a daughter whom he knew nothing about taking care of. Hermione knew that they would need a lot of help, especially Harry.

"Hermione, look. She's so beautiful!" Ginny whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Harry was staring at his daughter, wide eyed with either fear or in awe. "What are we going to call it?" he asked.

"Harry! _She's_ not an _it_," Ginny answered. "She's an Apple."

"I thought she was a baby, Ginny. You're comparing our daughter to a fruit?

Even _it_ is better than that," Harry replied with a raised eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I'm going name her Apple."

"Oh, Ginny. Give me that magazine. I knew I shouldn't have let you read that. Thanks a lot, Hermione," Harry said, looking over at Hermione. He grabbed the magazine that was in one of Ginny's hands and looked at the front cover. "Just because Gwyneth Paltrow names her baby Apple, doesn't mean you have to."

Ginny laughed. "I just wanted to see what you would say. Like I'm really going to name our daughter after a fruit, let alone an apple."

"So what _are _you going to name her?" Ron asked from the doorway.

"Nice of you to join us," Hermione told him, giving him a quick smile.

"Yeah, where've you been, mate?" Harry asked.

"I just needed to clear my thoughts," Ron replied. "Can I hold her?"

Ginny nodded and handed him her baby. Ron played with the baby's fingers, talking to her. "Hello there. I'm Ron, your uncle. Your mum was going to name you Apple, can you believe that? You'll have to get her for that when you're older," Ron whispered.

"Ron! Give me my baby back. I don't want her to hate me already!" Ginny cried, but she couldn't help but smile.

"How about Elizabeth?" Harry suggested.

They were all sitting around the hospital room trying to think of names for the baby. They had been sitting there for about an hour and were getting nowhere.

"That's too plain," Ginny complained. "How about Diana?"

"Too prissy," Hermione commented. "How about Jewel?"

"No more with the inanimate objects here. We've gone over this, Hermione," Harry retorted.

"How about Arabella?" Ron suggested for the first time. He had just sat with them, listening.

"SOLD!" Ginny cried. "I love it! Do you like it, Harry?"

"If I said no, would it really make a difference?" he replied.

"No, not really. Go and get that nurse. Tell her we've finally made a decision."

Harry did as he was told and Ginny smiled. "Thanks, Ron. That's a beautiful name."

He shrugged and stayed silent.

"Ginny, do you need anything?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm alright. I just wish that my Mum-"

"Ginny!" a voice cried. Mrs. Weasley, along with the rest of the family, came stumbling in.

"Mum? What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, elated.

"Harry told us! Where's my granddaughter?" she questioned excitedly.

"Right here," a nurse replied, entering. "Arabella Lily Potter."

Mrs. Weasley hurried over and pulled the baby into her arms. "She's so beautiful! She has Harry's eyes! Do you think she'll have red hair?"

She moved around excitedly, talking animatedly with the others. Ginny smiled.

Harry walked over and kissed her. "I knew you'd want your family here, so I Flooed over to the Burrow and got them."

"Thanks, Harry. I knew I was smart in marrying you," she replied, smiling.

Hermione watched them silently. She wanted what they had so desperately, but she didn't know if she knew how to love someone else; to give them everything she could. She knew who she wanted, but like Helena and Ron, it wasn't meant to be. No matter how badly she wanted it.

Draco stared at his clock as if he was attempting to move it with his eyes. He needed more time than he had. He had just arrived from Harry's house, where he knew Hermione was staying. Turns out she was going to America. Today. He didn't care what she thought. He was going to be with her, marry her, have little Malfoy-Granger children jumping around, and love her until the day he died. Malfoys always got their way no matter what the situation. He wasn't about to let a beautiful stubborn woman like Hermione get in the way.

He knew she wanted him. He just knew. Now, all he needed was a plan. How was he going to get the airport without seeming suspicious, find what plane she was going on, and find _her_ in an hour? Of all the days he decided he was going to go for it, he chose the worst timing possible. Curse his blood ancestors and their ways. He always did things at the last minute.

Draco knew he had to act fast. He knew he couldn't just Apparate into the airport. That would be just plain stupid; not even Crabbe or Goyle would do that. He would have to…drive there. Now, if he had been thinking clearly and given a few more minutes, he would have thought of Apparating to a dark alley near the airport and would have saved himself loads of time. But he wasn't thinking clearly; love always got in the way. So, he did what any wizard would do; he "borrowed" his neighbour's car.

The first step was trying to open the door. There wasn't a doorknob so he didn't know quite what to do. Realising he could do magic, he opened the door quickly with his wand. A loud noise went off, and he thought it was very curious that cars had their own theme songs when opened. He slipped inside, only to find many more mysterious buttons. How was he supposed to turn on the bloody thing? He noticed a slit near the circular device, but didn't know what should be placed in it. He attempted to place a Muggle coin inside like those mechanical toys little children ride on, but to no avail. He decided he'd just have to do it his own way. He flicked his wand, using every spell he could think of to try and turn on a Muggle gadget. Something rumbled, and lights turned on all over the car.

What was he supposed to do now? There he was, sitting in a Muggle device with theme music going off (it was more of an obnoxious noise that repeated itself than actual music), with no knowledge as to how to operate a vehicle. He looked down and noticed two pedal-like things on the ground. He stepped down on one and zoomed backwards. Well, at least he knew how to make it move. He noticed a stick looking thing sitting in the middle of two seats and moved it to the one that lit up the _D. _Now, how did he steer it so he didn't hit someone? Ah, maybe that circular device? He stepped on the pedal and moved the "circular device" at the same time. He hit a car in front of him. Someone got out of it, looking angry. At the same time, another person walked out of the building to see what all the commotion was. It was the neighbour whose car Draco had stolen. Maybe it was time he left. He stepped on the pedal and zoomed forward onto the street, the neighbour chasing after him with a balled fist.

Phew. Part one of his plan was well underway. Now all he had to do was get to the airport. How hard could that be? Very hard, as he would soon find out. He was driving along and a car stopped suddenly in front of dangling lights. What was the idiot doing? Did he not see that the other cars were moving? He _obviously _didn't know what a car did. Draco moved around him and started to move across the intersection. He stopped all the other cars going in the opposite direction and went on his way.

"Idiots," he muttered to himself, laughing. He was making good headway.

He soon merged onto some kind of motorway, the cars going even faster. _This looks like good fun,_ he thought to himself. He zoomed through the cars, but then came to a sudden halt as everyone ceased moving. What kind of place is this? Does everyone stop all the time? He slowly inched his way through the motorway. He soon saw a sign that read _London Airport, next right. _He turned right immediately, despite the fact that there was nowhere to turn. There were only hills. As Draco mindlessly rode up the hill to get the airport, he heard another strange sound besides the noise his own car was still making. There were lights on the car behind him.

"I see more people realised how much easier this is to go this way than to sit in that unmoving line," Draco mused. "I've already set an example for these Muggles!"

The car still followed behind him as he emerged to another motorway that led to the airport. As he sped up, so did the car. _Perhaps they need help to get to the airport. _As Draco hummed merrily to the repetitive noise he was growing rather fond of, he got sight of the time. _Six-fifty_, the clock read. He had ten minutes to find Hermione before it was too late! He stepped on the pedal, going even faster and finally reached the airport. He ran out of his car, leaving the noise and everything else still on. He hurried through the airport, trying to figure out where to go. He finally found a desk that didn't have any people in line and walked over to it.

"Excuse me, but do you know where the plane to America is?" he asked the woman, who in his opinion wore far too much makeup for one's own good.

The woman looked at him strangely and smiled, revealing pink lipstick on her tooth. It took every bit in Draco to keep from laughing. "Where in the United States, sir?"

"I…look. The love of my life is leaving in ten minutes and I need to stop her before she makes a huge mistake. Can you please just tell me what plane Hermione Granger is leaving on?"

"You'll have to see customer service for that. Go down the hall and to the right. You can't miss it," she replied.

"I don't have time to go down the hall and to the right. Can't you just look her up in your…machine?" he replied frantically.

"I suppose. Just give me a second. How do you spell her name?"

"H-E-R-M…"

"H-A-R-M…what's the next part?" the woman asked.

"No, no. H-E-R-M-I-O-N-E G-R-A-N-G-E-R," he answered, enunciating each letter with care. "Could you please hurry up?"

"Alright, alright. Don't get your knickers in a bunch. She's on flight 1298 to Boston, Massachusetts," she told him. "Good luck!"

"Thank you!" he cried, hurrying away from the desk.

"That's gate A13!" she called after him.

Gate A13? What did that mean? He looked around the airport, hurrying through the slow people walking. He finally saw a sign that read, Gate A1-Gate A14 with an arrow pointing straight ahead. Muggles had strange ways of doing things, that was for sure. He hurried on, and finally found Gate A13. He ran to the desk.

"I need to get on that plane! The love of my life is on it! I need to find her!" he told the woman between breaths.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the plane has already taken off," she explained. "Perhaps you could call her when she arrives."

Draco kicked a nearby chair in anger. He had missed his one and only chance to make things right. He had lost his battle for love. With a heavy heart and no regard for who saw him, he Apparated back to his flat to drink away his problems.

A/N: There's now a Yahoo Group for the story to keep up with updates! Please join! http://groups. 


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

After a week, Draco decided to pack his things. He had had enough of London. He knew that it was time for him to leave. It was for the better, though Draco still couldn't believe how horribly wrong his life had gone since he bumped into Hermione that winter. He thought his life would get better, but he was sorely mistaken. He went into his room to pack his robes and other clothes when his eyes landed on an overturned box in a corner of the room. He smiled to himself. He had thrown it across the room when he was unpacking. He should have burned those letters long ago.

He picked the box up and carried it to the sitting room. He lit a fire in the fireplace, and pulled a letter out. He extended his arm to the fire to throw it in, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he opened the letter and read it.

_Draco,_

_I can't believe this is happening. One minute we hate each other and the next we're in a deserted corridor snogging. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. At first I didn't think that it was a good idea to sneak around, but the more I thought about it, I realised that it was better this way. If Ron or Harry, especially Ron, found out about this, I'm sure that they'd hex you into oblivion. Plus it's like our own little adventure. That's something I'll tell my grandchildren! ____ I just wanted you to know, Draco, that I care for you, and I always will, no matter what happens. I promise you this, qnd this alone, that I will always love you. When you're cold, I'll be there to warm you, when you're sad, I'll lighten up your day. And when you need someone to talk to, I will always be there. I can't wait for our next meeting._

_Love Always,_

_Hermione---The light of your life_

Draco smiled. These memories, though they were and would always be just memories, were a big part of his life. Without them, he'd have nothing to look back on; nothing to smile about when he is down. Hermione kept her promise in that respect. He'd always have her letters. But why did his heart feel lost? He couldn't quite understand it. He had always been told that everything happened for a reason. Could his tardiness the day Hermione was leaving be a sign that they weren't meant to be? Draco shook his head. He didn't want to think about something so horrid.

He decided he didn't want the letters, but he didn't want to burn them either. He thought about it and came to a decision. After he packed everything up and moved them to his car (he decided he wanted one for himself) he would go to Ron's and give them to him to give to her. He didn't want to go to Harry's. Too many dramatic occurrences had happened there that he didn't want to relive, and Ginny would probably keep him there for hours.

Soon enough, he got everything packed into his lime green car. After double checking to be sure he hadn't left anything, he locked the door to his apartment, the box of letters in one arm. He reached his car and opened the right door to place the box on the seat, and then moved the left side to prepare to drive. He had gotten no better, but he didn't care. He was going somewhere where it wouldn't matter. Some place far away from where he'd never been. He drove along, singing to the snazzy tune on the radio. When he finally reached Ron's house, he sighed deeply. He hoped that the snooty American woman wasn't anywhere around. She was a bore.

He got out of his car, grabbing the box on his way out and went to the front door and knocked. After a few moments, the door rushed open to find a dishevelled ginger man in the doorway.

"Morning, Malfoy. What brings you 'round here?" Ron asked, looking at him curiously.

"I had something for Hermione that I wanted to leave here so that you can give it to her for me. I don't know where she's staying in America," Draco explained.

Ron glanced at him again, wide-eyed. "Er—why don't you give it to her yourself?"

"I just told you that, Ronald," Malfoy snapped, annoyed about how thick he really was. "It's not that hard to understand. Must I speak slower for you to comprehend?"

"One, shut the bloody hell up, you ferret. Second, you are too dense to realise that Hermione never got on the perolane. She stayed here, to make sure I was alright," Ron told him, a satisfied grin forming on his face.

Draco stared at him disbelievingly. She never left? He had been grieving for a week and she never came to see him? He growled to himself, angry. "One, Weasley, it's an AEROPLANE and what do you mean she never got on it?"

"I mean she never did. That witch, Helena left me for someone else. Hermione couldn't bear to leave her friend in distress. She's a caring person, Draco. You can't say that much," Ron snapped back.

"I very well can! Now, let me in! I want to see her!" Draco demanded, all horrible thoughts thrown out the window.

Ron grinned mischievously. "Why should I?"

"Because if you don't, I'll be sure that you'll never have a chance to---"

"Ron? Who the hell could you possibly be talking to out there? If it's Helena, you'd better tell her to run. I would hate for it to be---Draco?" Hermione had glanced around the corner at the doorway and saw the handsome blond standing there with a box in his hands. "What are you doing here?"

"I think, my dear, is what are you doing here? I went after you! I thought I had lost you for good!" Draco told her.

"Went after me? What do you mean?" she asked, confused. "I was here all along."

"Harry and Ginny told me you were leaving for America! I stole my neighbour's car and drove to the airport for you! I arrived just as the plane was leaving!"

Hermione stood, speechless. "You did?"

"Yes, though I felt like a fool. I had a whole speech ready and everything!" Draco replied angrily.

"What did you want to tell me?" Hermione asked.

Draco moved towards her until there noses were almost touching. He placed his hands around her face and smiled. "Hermione, you are the most amazing woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Your ability to not fall head over heels for me is quite remarkable, I must say. You're daring, beautiful, and stubborn as hell. I don't want anyone else. If I can't have you, I'll die alone. I love you, darling."

Draco kissed her, and when they broke apart, Hermione stared at him with wide-eyes. "I love you, too, Draco Malfoy. I've always have. And I always will."

Hermione glanced outside and look at his car. "I have two questions for you though. Why do you have a car, and why is it filled with boxes?"

Draco merely smiled. "I was in need of new transportation, and I was moving far away. If I had known you'd be here, I wouldn't have bothered! Now, I have a question for you. Come with me for a moment, will you?"

Hermione glanced over at him curiously. "Alright. I'll be back later, Ron. Will you be alright?"

Ron nodded and Draco Apparated him and Hermione away. Draco glanced around excitedly. He looked over at Hermione, who was still in awe. They were at the lake they had spent so many memories at.

Before Hermione could comment, Draco kneeled down on one knee and held one of Hermione's hands in his. "Hermione, marry me?"

Hermione looked up at Draco and smiled. "Yes."


End file.
